Living Proof
by owlpostagain
Summary: senior, sophomore, boyfriend, girlfriend, friend-with-benefits, gay, straight, victim, bully, musician, athlete. it's not about what you are, it's about who you are. various pairings, slash, warnings for language and maybe more.
1. Is Anybody Out There?

**Hi guys! So, this is my first attempt at writing a novel-length multi-chapter since I was 13 years old. It's going to be a process, but I'm really excited about it, and I hope you are too =)**

**Because this is the first chapter, and this isn't really a story that can start in media res, I kind of think this chapter is a little slow-going, because what it really is more than anything else is an introduction. It's also kind of on the short side. Not that I can make any guarantees about the length of future chapters...whatever, I'm rambling now. The moral of the story is that this is the beginning of an experiment and I hope you're all willing to see it through with me.**

**There are some weird things about this that you will need to keep in mind for the future, and here is the first one:**

**1. Many, many songs will be mentioned (of course they will, it's me) throughout the length of this story. Sometimes they will be openly acknowledged as songs that the band Melodious Nocturne is covering, sometimes they will be credited as "original songs" by the band. I can't write my own music to save my life (I've tried), so all of the songs will be songs that exist in the real world. You'll see what I mean.**

**Things I Own****: **a Hollywood Undead album, autographed concert adverts/posters, a t-shirt that says SOME KIDS R GAY, THAT'S OK (same campaign, close enough)

**Things I Don't Own**: any of the characters or locations (save Arpeggio's) mentioned in this story. They belong to the lucky bitches at Square Enix and Disney.

**Music Mentioned in This Chapter****: **"Is Anybody Out There?" by The Downtown Fiction, "Levitate" by Hollywood Undead, "Under the Sea" from Disney's _The Litt__le Mermaid_, "Poster Boys" by Transmit Now

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><p><strong>Living Proof<br>**

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><p><strong>I. September<strong>  
><strong>Chapter 1<strong>: Is Anybody Out There? 

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><p>"Sup fag."<p>

Roxas' shoulder hit the locker with a dull clang, flesh and cloth and bone colliding with thin, hollow metal. The blue-haired teen in front of him, one hand still raised from the recent shove, threw a cold sneer back over his shoulder. His friend laughed openly, tossing back black dreads as he turned to check the look on Roxas' face.

The blond closed his eyes and schooled his expression, diligently forcing the wince off his face. He wasn't going to give Saïx or Xaldin the satisfaction. Inhale. Exhale. Eyes open.

Olette was staring at him, eyebrows knitted together in a frown as she watched Roxas push himself off the wall of lockers. He stared right back, seeing the surprise, then sheepish embarrassment register across her face as she realized that he saw her. She looked away quickly, ducking her head and hurrying away to catch up with Pence.

'That's right,' Roxas thought bitterly, 'walk away.' He took it back almost immediately, feeling guilty for thinking ill of his old friend. It was his own fault, and no one else's, that she hadn't gotten involved. It had been Roxas himself who had insisted they all stay out of it, pushing his friends farther and farther away until they got the hint.

"Roxas!"

Well. Most of them.

"Are you okay?" Naminé had caught up with him as he attempted to round the corner, cautiously checking for a sign of Saïx or Xaldin first.

"What? Oh, yeah," Roxas feigned innocence. Naminé raised a pale eyebrow delicately; skepticism looked out of place on her soft features. "Yeah, I just tripped. No big deal."

"You tripped," the smaller blonde repeated. "You do realize that you sound like an abused housewife defending her husband, right?"

"What can I say," Roxas simpered. "Saïx loves me, I know he does. He only says those things when I do something wrong, when I deserve it. He just gets a little irritable on days that end in 'y.' You know how he hates the letter y. But I know, deep down, he loves me!"

Naminé, Roxas knew, was struggling valiantly to keep from giggling, even as one corner of her lip quirked up in a smile. "Stop," she chastised, "abuse is not funny, and neither is this. You need to tell someone."

"It's fine, Nam," Roxas insisted. He'd lost track of how many times they'd had this conversation, how many times his best friend had tried, sometimes gentle, sometimes as forcefully as such a sweet girl could manage, to convince Roxas to tell someone about Saïx and Xaldin. It had to be at least once a day since they'd really started being friends, which was the beginning of sophomore year. Lets see, 365 days in a year, times 2 for sophomore year and junior year, a little less in the summer when he didn't see the two bullies as frequently, and not quite as often in the beginning, back when Naminé was still too shy and Kairi and Sora were the ones doing it instead, so...

"Are you even listening to me?" Naminé's soft voice cut through his mental math, causing Roxas to jump slightly.

He smiled sheepishly, running one hand through his blond hair. "Sorry," he said, "I just...yeah, no."

Naminé shook her head fondly. "Of course not. Anyway, I have to get to class. Want to come over after school? It's been forever since we've hung out just the two of us, and Marly's got something with his cousin so there won't be any surprise visits or anything, promise."

"Sure," Roxas shrugged, "yeah, meet you at your locker after the bell."

Naminé waved as she veered off down the next fork in the hallway, disappearing into the sea of students desperately trying to make the most of the five minutes between classes. Roxas could see a kid digging desperately through his locker, another scribbling frantically as he propped a notebook up against the nearest wall. Most of the people were texting, phones held surreptitiously down by their hips in hopes of hiding them from teachers combing the hallways. One couple shamelessly turned a goodbye peck into a steamy kiss, ignoring the glares from the students struggling to get around the groping pair. Roxas shook his head, giving them a wide berth as he rounded the doorway on the opposite side of the hall.

There were still two minutes left until the bell but, frankly, he didn't feel like pushing his luck with Vexen. Professor Vexen, as he insisted on being called, despite being nothing more than a high school AP Chemistry teacher, was a stickler for punctuality and Roxas didn't need a whole 120 seconds of "freedom" that badly.

Sora, on the other hand, apparently did. He flew into the room just as the bell finished ringing, dropping hastily into his seat next to Roxas, nearly overbalancing in his hurry. One shoulder plowed into Roxas as he adjusted himself on the chair, blue eyes narrowing dangerously at the involuntary hiss that escaped Roxas' lips.

"Roxas," Sora said warningly, keeping his voice low under the sound of Vexen taking attendance.

"I tripped," the blond insisted. He lifted the edge of his sleeve, gingerly prodding the knot of red skin on his bicep. He'd hit the lock of one of the top lockers when Saïx shoved him, and it had apparently been hard enough to bruise.

"Over what?" Sora challenged his twin. "Here," he added, louder, as Vexen called "Strife, and Strife."

"My...shoelaces," Roxas tried lamely.

"You're wearing slip-ons."

Roxas glanced down, cursing under his breath at the side of his black and white checkered Vans. Rats.

"Rox –"

"Drop it," Roxas snapped, looking up and glaring Sora into submission. His brother, unlike Naminé, knew well enough to take a hint.

It was an endlessly circling argument, one that Roxas was growing increasingly tired of having. It had been Hayner, first, with a side of Pence and Olette, and then Sora and Kairi took up the cause, dragging Naminé in just when Roxas was finally sure he'd taken care of his old friends. They meant well, and he knew that, but it was a lot harder to get rid of his twin brother than it was to get rid of his best friend, and as for Naminé, well, she was the most persistently stubborn girl he'd ever met. Soft-spoken and inconceivably friendly, but more stubborn than all three Strife brothers put together, and that was saying something.

The conversation was always the same. 'Don't let them push you around, Roxas.' 'Don't let them treat you like that.' 'Fight back,' if it was Hayner talking. 'Tell someone,' when it was Naminé or Kairi. 'Do whatever, just do something,' from Sora. They never understood Roxas' logic, Roxas' reasons behind his apparent submission.

It had been different when he was younger. 14 and fresh out of the closet, filled with teenage bravado and naïve pride. He'd been patently lucky in his initial attempts at coming out; his parents had accepted it without complaint, his brothers without surprise (or at least, Sora was without surprise. Cloud may have been surprised, but that would have required facial expression, so Roxas was never really sure), and his friends without fuss. It had been easy. Too easy. Easy enough that he'd walked right into high school proudly wearing the rainbow studded belt Sora had picked out for him at Hot Topic. Easy enough that when Xemnas Akio, a junior with cold eyes sneered at him and said "what are you, gay?" Roxas had stood up a little straighter and said "yeah, so what if I am?"

Even then, he'd been brash enough to put a fight at first. Xemnas had his little disciples, Saïx Claymore and Xaldin Lindworm, freshmen just like Roxas, but Roxas had Sora and Hayner Dincht, and even Cloud sometimes. Hayner was hot-headed and impulsive and had years of being bullied and beaten up by Seifer Almasy under his belt, and Sora was just too damn nice for anyone to insult. Even Pence tried, and the girls too, Olette _ and Kairi Brightcrest, even though she was new and really just friends with Sora, and Kairi's friend Naminé Majo, who wasn't new at all but had only recently started speaking in anything louder than a whisper. Roxas was young, Roxas had friends, and Roxas was invincible.

And then he wasn't. Then there was the day that he and Hayner had run into Saïx and Xaldin just outside the Sandlot, off school grounds after school hours. Xemnas had favored piercing glares and biting words, but Saïx and Xaldin favored their fists, and even though they were the same age, they were twice the size of the petite blond and his lanky, wiry friend. It was brutal. Unprecedented. Undoubtedly the worst injury Roxas had ever suffered in his life, despite several childhood broken bones. And as he sat in a cold, plastic chair in the Emergency Room, one eye swollen shut, blood still dripping from a broken nose and split lower lip, Roxas turned and looked at Hayner. Hayner, who was Roxas best friend in the entire world. Hayner, who was straight, and therefore should never have to deal with this. Hayner, who had been getting into fights with Seifer since fifth grade and had never, ever been injured that badly. Roxas looked him over with his good eye, taking in the bruised jaw and the broken wrist being set in a bright orange cast, and decided that that was quite enough.

He stopped fighting, and he began to insist that his friends do the same. This was not to say that he backed down entirely. Roxas was unapologetic about who he was and what he stood for. Even four years later he had gotten dressed that morning in a shirt that insisted SOME DUDES MARRY DUDES. GET OVER IT. It was just...no fighting, no arguing, no talking back. And two weeks later, when Saïx and Xaldin were beaten so badly they both spent the night in the hospital, Roxas began a different approach entirely, even though Hayner swore on his broken wrist that he had nothing to do with it. Hayner only ever go involved when Roxas was around; he was Seifer's punching bag, and since rumor seemed to suggest the older blond had been the one to jump Saïx and Xaldin, furious at them for "damaging his property," no one dared touch Hayner anymore. If he wasn't going to stay out of Roxas' fights, Rox was just going to have to keep him away from them. Problem solved.

In hindsight, it was sad how easy it was for Roxas to pull away from his childhood friends. He tried avoidance at first; stopped hanging out at their usual spot, made excuse to stay after school so they couldn't walk home together. After a while it almost seemed to happen on its own. Hayner went out for the Struggle team. Pence, it seemed, had finally mustered up some courage when Roxas wasn't looking, and Pence and Olette had turned into Pence-and-Olette. Sora had found a new friendship in Kairi, the new-old girl who had moved back from Destiny Islands, and then he joined the Blitzball team. Suddenly they were all off, doing their own thing, and finally letting Roxas do his.

Roxas twitched slightly as Sora bumped their knees together under the lab table, glancing quickly down at the margin of Sora's notebook. The brunet had shoved the book towards the middle of the table, pencil dancing lightly over a hastily drawn number.

"Four?" he tried, praying that was the right answer to the question he hadn't heard Professor Vexen ask. The chem teacher said nothing, thin lips pressed together as he turned back to the dry erase board and added a four to the equation he was apparently balancing. Roxas let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and nudged Sora's arm gratefully.

His twin had always understood more than anyone else. He never fully understood, how could he, being a. popular, b. straight, and c. one of those people that were physically impossible to dislike, but he knew his twin well enough to piece it together as much as he could. That didn't mean he liked it; no, Sora was constantly trying to drag Roxas to parties or introduce him to friends, but he mostly respected Roxas' wish to keep the interference to a minimum. Roxas at least had one friend who wasn't related to him, and between Sora and Naminé, and occasionally Kairi, they made sure Roxas wasn't completely pathetic. Like, for example, now.

"What are you doing tonight?" Sora asked, jumping up the second the bell rang and unceremoniously shoving his books into his backpack.

"It's a Tuesday," Roxas reminded him. Since when did Tuesday nights become socially acceptable?

"We're seniors," Sora let out a long-suffering sigh, as though he couldn't believe he even had to elaborate that much. "Besides, it's not like there's a rager or anything. Just have a Blitz game this afternoon, first of the season, you know? Figured we'd have a little kickoff party at Tidus's, invite only, that kind of thing."

"I'm good," Roxas insisted. Going out on a Tuesday. "I'm going to Nam's after school." He pushed himself to his feet, shoving his pen into the same back pocket that held his copy of _The Sun Also Rises_for AP Lit.

"Oh, good," Sora said. Roxas paused, glancing sideways at his twin as they joined the crowd of people jostling through the hallways. Sora was always, always sincere when he invited Roxas out, so the blond was taken aback at the note of relief in his brother's voice. Why would Sora even invite him if he didn't want Roxas to go?

"I'll be home late, then," Sora was saying when Roxas tuned back in. "I'll call you if I need you to cover for me, yeah?"

"Yup," Roxas nodded. He was exceptionally good at covering Sora's ass when their parents got nosey.

They parted ways after leaving their adjacent lockers (assigned alphabetically, sucks to be you if your last name ends in Z and you're stuck in the basement for four years). Naminé was waiting for Roxas, leaning back against her locker with her bag by her feet.

"Hi," she said cheerfully, picking up her backpack. Too cheerfully. Red flags. "So, we just got our next assignment in studio, and I really need these watercolor pencils for it, and Riebe's is having a sale today and please, please can we just stop by there real quick on the way back to my house? I'll be so fast, I promise," she pleaded. As if Roxas could say no to her.

He heaved a long-suffering sigh anyway, arranging his features into a severely put-out expression. "Fine," he sighed. "I guess." Naminé swatted at his arm, wrinkling her nose as he broke into a grin. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Geez. Yeah, it's cool," he said, holding his hands up placatingly. "It's not like we have urgent plans to get to your house or something."

She shook her head exasperatedly but slipped her hand into his all the same, threading their fingers together as he pushed the door open and led them outside. It really had been ages since they'd hung out just the two of them. Naminé was Kairi's best friend, from back before Kairi moved away from Twilight Town, and when Kairi moved back and become friends with Sora, she started bringing Naminé around too. She and Roxas were, more often than not, thrown together by default as Sora and Kairi paired off, until eventually they started actually spending time together by choice. Naminé had always been the quiet, soft-spoken girl with her head always buried in her sketchbook before Kairi came back; even though he'd known her forever, Roxas didn't think he'd ever spoken to her before the end of freshman year. She had dozens and dozens of acquaintances, people always stopping to say hi to her in the hallway or commenting on her newest piece in the showcase outside the Main Office, but Kairi and Roxas were really the only people she called her good friends. At least, until she started dating Marluxia.

Marluxia was a year older than them and had been completing his senior project when Naminé met him last spring. They were both working together on a community service project down at the Sandlot, Naminé designing the mural, Marluxia landscaping the garden, and had apparently fought nearly every single day over minute aesthetic details that Roxas never bothered to remember. He'd barely even paid attention to him the first few times Naminé had mentioned the older boy, who'd gone to Twilight East for high school instead of Twilight North like they did, until Naminé casually dropped the term boyfriend.

They'd been dating for almost six months now. Roxas was happy for his best friend, really, he was. But it had meant a lot less time for this, just him and Naminé, weaving through the streets of Twilight Town in easy, companionable silence.

"Oh my god, see, this is why we're best friends."

Roxas very nearly jumped out of his skin, blinking at the redhead that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere on the street in front of them. Kairi plowed on without even pausing for breath, words tripping all over themselves in their attempts to fly out of her mouth as fast as humanly possible.

"I was literally just about to call you, Nam, and beg you to come meet me here. I need your opinion on this dress and it has to be right now because it's the last one and I have to be back at school in 45 minutes cause we're cheering at the Blitzball game tonight and oh, please Roxas, can't I just borrow her for, like, a few minutes, I promise I'll be so, so quick."

Roxas' head spun. He really would have sworn it wasn't physically possible to talk that fast before he met Kairi, and even after three years he still wasn't used to it. Naminé frowned helplessly at him, and really, what choice did he have?

"Sure," he shrugged. "I wanted to go run into..." he scanned the nearby storefronts quickly, settling on a faded blue sign he'd never noticed before "...Arpeggio's anyway. Text me later, Nam." He hurried away before Kairi could start talking again, all but running across the street and ducking into the rundown store.

He stopped short as the door swung shut behind him, staring around the tiny shop. It was...he had never seen anything like it. Outrageous, maybe. Incredible. Unlike any other store in the world, if he had to guess. Every inch of space was used up, walls lined with assorted shelves, aisles created by milk crates full of what looked like records. Even, Roxas glanced up, the ceiling was covered. It seemed to have been wallpapered with posters advertising bands and concerts. None of them were generic, store-bought posters either. No, these were souvenirs decorating the walls and ceiling, vintage adverts boasting live shows, some still sporting hastily done packing tape, others faded Sharpie signatures.

"Yeah, that's the look everyone gets first time they come in here."

Roxas started slightly, glancing around the shop for the source of the amused-sounding voice. The store's sole other occupant stood behind a counter against the front wall, chin resting on his hand as he studied Roxas. He was the perfect employee for such an eclectic shop, blending right in with what looked like a vintage Doors t-shirt under a black suit vest and extra-large deejay-style headphones hanging around his neck. Blond hair, paler than Roxas' own golden color, both spiked up and hung down in the strangest union of a mullet and a mohawk Rox had ever seen, but somehow, just likely the pierced bottom lip and at least one silver-studded ear, the cashier made it work.

"What?" Roxas asked stupidly, belatedly realizing that the other blond was still looking at him.

"That look. The one that says you're not sure if you just walked through a doorway and into another world. It's a pretty normal reaction to this place. Ax always says we should take pictures, sell them as souvenirs. 'The Arpeggio Experience.'"

"Use them as blackmail, more like," Roxas muttered.

Blond-cashier-dude laughed. "Actually, yeah, that's what he really says. Sell them to customers' friends to use as blackmail. Anyway," he clapped his hands together, straightening up. "Welcome to Arpeggio's. Part of the experience is exploring the place, so I'll just give you the basic tour and leave you to it. CDs on the left wall, cassettes on the right, records in the middle. The back wall is pre-loaded mp3 players. The mp3 players, cassettes, and records are price as marked, all CDs are $5. Everything in here is pre-owned but gently used. Take your time, check the place out. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. If you need me, yell, or maybe throw something. Seriously, I'm working on a new song, which may as well be synonymous with 'I'm taking up residence in a black hole of external stimuli.' So just holler."

Roxas nodded. This guy could give Kairi a run for her money for sure, but at least he, unlike the red-haired girl, apparently knew when to shut up.

He lost track of how time passed. Roxas didn't have a record player, and he never much cared for the quality of cassette tapes, but CDs...the blond had never seen such an awe-inspiring collection of albums before. They didn't seem to be organized in any particular way, at least not that Roxas could discern, but were instead piled haphazardly along rows and rows of shelves, forcing a careful perusal of the stacks. Roxas poured over each with systematic attention to detail, surveying the collection of everything from soundtracks to instrumental scores to old school 80s dance hits to Lil Wayne's newest release. His favorite discovery, excluding the first edition copy of Sum 41's debut album that he himself had misplaced years ago, had been the Walkmans interspersed at random throughout the display, each labeled with little white signs and thin, spiky handwriting.

NOT SURE IF YOU'LL LIKE A CD? TEST IT OUT! JUST PLEASE BE GENTLE WITH THE MERCH...EVEN IF YOU FIND A CD TO BE A REBECCA-BLACK LEVEL OF GARBAGE DOESN'T MEAN SOME OTHER POOR SUCKER WANTS HIS FUTURE FAVORITE ALBUM SCRATCHED. THANK YOU, MGMT.

And under that, an afterthought added in completely different handwriting: (THE MANAGEMENT, NOT THE BAND.)

Roxas was pretty sure he was in love. He wasn't positive, he'd never been in love, but he imagined this must be what it felt like. He'd willingly spend the rest of his life in this small, wonderfully cramped slice of heaven, and if voluntary, indefinite confinement wasn't love, he didn't know what was.

"Find everything okay?" the blond cashier asked as Roxas finally approached the register. It was rhetorical: the enraptured look on Roxas' face was more than enough answer. He began rifling through Roxas' selections, one eyebrow raised as he surveyed the titles. "old school Sum 41, Hollywood Undead, Forever the Sickest Kids, and Classic Disney Volume I. Huh."

"I like variety," Roxas said defensively.

Blondie laughed. "No, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just funny, my band covered two songs off these CDs on our EP. I can't believe that out of everything you could have picked, you picked up two of the three albums we borrowed from."

"You're in a band? Cool." Roxas was only half paying attention. He'd just noticed once last reason to love the store: a box of thumb drives sitting onto the counter next to the register. "What are these?"

"The coolest things we have here," the cashier said, glancing over as he began ringing up Rox' choices. "They're playlists. People make them, write the title on, and drop them in the box. From there, it's luck of the draw. Some of them will change your life, some of them might not be your thing. The only guarantee is a minimum of 20 songs that somewhat or somehow relate to the title for $10."

Roxas fished one out at random, reading the title out loud. "A Taxonomy of Unconventional Love Songs."

"Oh, I think you'll like that one," the cashier said. "If you really do have eclectic taste. My friend made it, and he's the freaking king of random. I'd say go for it."

"Sure, why not," Roxas shrugged, handing over the little red USB. "I listen to a little bit of everything."  
>"Oh yeah?" the blond added the thumb drive to the little blue shopping bag with a giant smiley on the side. "You should come see my band. We play a little bit of everything, so it sounds like a perfect match. We're not half bad either, if I do say so myself."<p>

"Got any shows coming up?" Roxas hardly recognized the words coming out of his mouth. It wasn't that he was antisocial...he just couldn't remember the last time he'd initiated plans with someone other than Naminé or Sora.

"Friday night," Blondie nodded, "actually. Down at the Organization, on thirteenth street? We're Melodious Nocturne, we go on at 9:30. Your total's $26 even, by the way."

Roxas frowned, narrowing his eyes at the numbers on the register. The cashier himself had said: CDs for $5, thumb drives $10, but all he did was smirk slightly, winking at Roxas as he handed over the bag.  
>"Have a good night, then. See you Friday. And oh, yeah. I'm Demyx."<p>

"Roxas."

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><p>He didn't notice the extra CD until the next night. Roxas was sprawled across his bed, laptop propped against his thighs, half-heartedly watching Sora suck royally at Keyblade Master on their PS3 when he remembered about the shopping bag hanging from the back of his desk chair. The blond had dumped the contents out onto his bed, four jewel cases and one thumb drive. But no, there were five albums laying on his bed. Roxas nudged the other four aside, picking up the mystery one he had definitely never seen before in his life.<p>

It was black, nothing more than an intricately intertwined MN framed on top and bottom with the words MELODIOUS NOCTURNE and THE ALBUM THAT NEVER WAS. Roxas flipped it over in his hand, reading the seven tracks listed on the back. The album boasted four originals and three covers, and just like Demyx has promised, two of them were on albums Roxas had picked up: "Levitate" by Hollywood Undead and, here Roxas smirked a little, "Under the Sea" from _The Little Mermaid_.

"Oooh, new music?" Sora asked. He had apparently died for the umpteenth time tonight. "Anything good?"

"Hollywood Undead, Sum 41, Forever the Sickest Kids, a Disney compilation, and Melodious Nocturne," Roxas rattled off, surveying the titles spread across his bed.

Sora frowned, eyes back on the TV screen. "Who?"

"No idea," Rox admitted. "The cashier at this little hole in the wall music store said it was his band, he must have stuck the EP in the bag when I wasn't looking."

"They any good?"

"No idea. Hold on, mute that. Let's find out." He pushed the album into his CD-rom drive, watching the track titles pop up on iTunes. "Pick a song, we got four originals and three covers."

"Original. No mercy," Sora declared, shamelessly button-mashing his way through a fairly pathetic battle. "Doesn't matter how good your voices sound if your original songs are lousy."

Roxas nodded, double clicking on track four, 'Poster Boys.'

"Huh," Sora said. He paused his game, turning back to look at Roxas. "They're actually not bad. There's something about the lead singer's voice..." the brunet trailed off.

"He's good," Roxas suggested. "He's got a good voice." He reached for his mouse again, clicking through Safari windows and into the Google search bar. "They're playing a show Friday night, at that bar down by McDuck's. This guy told me about it."

"You gonna go?"

"Dunno, you free Friday night?" Roxas opened the band's MySpace page (seriously, who still used MySpace?), scrolling through the surprising number of comments and general info as the next song started playing. It was the first of the covers, "Is Anybody Out There?" some song Roxas had never heard by some band he'd never heard of.

"I could be," Sora contemplated. "You know what, yeah, I am. I'm actually so fascinated by the idea of you actually wanting to go out that I couldn't possibly say no. Besides, they do sound pretty decent."

"Sweet," Roxas nodded. He selected the band's photo gallery, opening first their profile picture. It was an action shot, four guys on stage in the middle of a show. The drummer was almost completely obscured by darkness, the bassist hidden under what appeared to be a sheet of silver hair covering his face, some guy that could have been Demyx playing guitar. Frankly, Roxas barely looked at them. No, the focus of the picture, and the part Roxas couldn't take his eyes off of, was the lead singer. He stood dead center in the frame, illuminated by red and yellow stage lights, but even if he'd been shoved into the back corner of the image, blurry and out of focus, he still would have dominated the photo. It was something about his eyes, Roxas mused, wide open and starting right at the camera, so impossibly green that there must have been some Photoshopping involved.

"Well," he told Sora, "even if they suck royally live, there's at least one positive."

"What's that?"

"The lead singer is apparently hot as fuck."

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><p>I promise better and more exciting things in the next chapter. If you were wondering, I did, in fact, make a Taxonomy of Unconventional Love Songs playlist. Also, today is my 22nd birthday.<p> 


	2. Feeling This

**Okay, so, first and foremost: guys, I am so, so sorry, **_**especially **_**given the AMAZING response I received from the first chapter (really, you guys blow me away)****. I really should have known better than to post chapter 1 when I did. I knew my life was about to get crazy, and I irrationally and optimistically reasoned that I always somehow make time to write, and that I would have no problem writing up chapter 2 in a reasonable amount of time. Well. Let me tell you. I wrote most of this chapter in 10-15 minute segments of jotting down a paragraph here or a couple lines of dialogue there. I also wrote about half of it while sitting in bumper to bumper Manhattan rush hour traffic. I would like to say that this is the only time this will happen, but considering the part time job I started in July just morphed into a full-time-nights-and-weekends-included takeover of my soul, I can make no guarantees. If you have no interest in reading a story that gets updated sporadically every six-eight weeks, then I suggest you give up on me now, no hard feelings, I still love you like mad.**

**If you're still with me, though, then I really love you like mad. I hardly have time to breathe these days, but writing to me is almost on the same level as breathing, so I will do whatever it takes to make time when I can. If you're willing to bear with me and my crazy life I promise, **_**promise**_** that no matter what, I will see this story to the end. I'm already so attached to it that I couldn't not.**

**Anyway, this was obviously supposed to be ready for akuroku day, but as of last night this chapter was about half the length it is now (today was a GREAT day), so it's a little delayed. In addition to it being late, it's also...not the most exciting chapter. In my defense, it's still the introduction, we are still "meeting" the characters...can't exactly start the game until all the players are in position, yeah? I promise things will start picking up soon. In the mean time, this is just a lot of dialogue.**

**OKAY SO.**

**Things I Own**: Two Transmit Now CDs, three Downtown Fiction CDs, recordings of all of the songs mentioned here, a brand new Blink-182 2011 tour shirt/baseball tee.

**Things I Do Not Own**: any of the characters, places, things, or anything else you might recognize from either the Kingdom Hearts series (Square Enix), the credited bands, or Anastasia (Fox, by the way, owns that one. Not Disney. Fun fact).

**Songs That I Do Not Own**: "Poster Boys" by Transmit Now, "Alive With the Glory of Love" by Say Anything (oh, my wildest dreams), "Lola" by the Kinks, "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow, "As Long As You Love Me" by the Backstreet Boys, or any of the other songs or bands mentioned here. I can't write lyrics for shit, and I have negative musical talent.

**Note**: since I make this world whatever I want, I've abandoned stupid American laws and gone the British route on one particular point: the drinking age in Twilight Town is 18. poor Sora and Roxas, only 17, can't drink quite yet, but almost everyone else in the story is legal. just go with it.

**PS. ****THINGS I DO NOT BOTHER WITH: **subtlety. Apparently Sora doesn't either. Seriously though, I'm not trying to trick anyone...all you have to do is read my author's page to know exactly what to expect from this story. To me, the fun part isn't knowing the end result, but seeing how they got there. That is my defense for why some things may or may not be flashing neon signs of obviousness. Right, shutting up now.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>: "Feeling This" by Blink-182

"Think there's like, an opening band or something? Or are they the opening band?"

Roxas shrugged. "Dunno. Nam said she'd heard of them, so I guess they're kind of known around here, but I don't know. Do club shows usually have openers?"

Sora shook his head, paused, then shrugged, taking a long drag from the Coke (without the rum, he and Roxas were still a few months shy of their eighteenth birthdays, much to Sora's frustration) in his hand.

He spat the drink right back out barely seconds later, startling Roxas as the blond belatedly attempted to dodge the spray. He turned wide-eyed toward his twin brother: Sora was gaping at the stage, sky blue eyes nearly bulging out of his head. Roxas glanced forward again, trying to see what it was that was giving Sora a "freshly-slapped-across-the-face-with-a-fish" expression.

Admittedly, it was kind of hard to narrow it down to just one shocking thing. Roxas himself barely knew where to start. The lead singer, who, Roxas was pleased to see, was just as gorgeous in real life as he was on MySpace, had done his wild, electric red hair into a crazy array of quivering spikes, which was debatably more or less bizarre than the bass player laughing next to him, tossing a sheet of not gray, not white, but silver hair away from his bass strap. They elbowed each other playfully while the bassist twisted his instrument into place, batting at the redhead's hand as the singer slapped his ass.

"What the fuck," Sora hissed. "What. The. Actual. Fuck." He barely seemed to noticed Roxas standing next to him, eyebrows raised as he studied his twin again. Honestly, the hair was a little weird, but Sora of all people shouldn't be judging someone on funky hair, not with the uncontrollable bedhead look he was usually rocking. The blond looked back up towards the stage again, this time eyeing the other two members of the band.

There was Demyx, the kid from the music store, plugging his guitar into the amp opposite the bassist's. Sure, he wasn't exactly what Sora, or anyone else, would deem normal; he, too, had the weirdest fucking hair Roxas had ever seen, and yeah, the stage lights kept glinting off the little bits of silver pierced through random parts of his face and ears, but none of that warranted Sora's alarm. And the drummer, who despite his lack of shirt and sequin-studded, white skinny jeans had by far the most normal head of close-cropped blond hair in the band, was hardly what Roxas would call terrifying. Really, he was running out of options here.

"Sora?" he tried carefully. "Sor, what's going on?"

"I didn't...fuck..." Sora spluttered uselessly. He couldn't keep his eyes off the stage in front of him. "We should go."

"What?" Roxas hissed.

Sora grabbed his brother's forearm, fingers tight against bare skin. "Come on, let's –"

"Welcome back Twilight Town! We're Melodious Nocturne and, as always, this one's for you."

Both boys turned instinctively back towards the stage, where all four members of Melodious Nocturne had, in well-timed unison, begun playing. They were opening with Roxas' favorite original off the EP, a song called "Poster Boys," and despite the frantic twin still attached to his arm, he couldn't tear his eyes from the redhead on stage. Long, lanky limbs were wrapped around the mic stand, hugging it to him, mic against his lips as he stared down at the audience, and Roxas couldn't help but stare right back when the redhead took a deep breath and made his first entreaty.

_"So do you wanna come with me? We could get away and never look back. We can run away and that's a fact, what do you think about that? I think it sounds so sweet that we should start right now." _

Sora had started tugging on Roxas' arm, twisting the skin under his fingers. Roxas was only half paying attention; he knew he was being insensitive, something was clearly wrong, but he loved this song already and he even knew the words already and he couldn't help but mouth along quietly as the second verse started with that clever little allusion to only having fifteen minutes of fame.

_"We've been your poster boys for maybe ten minutes, so with the five left on the clock I think that we should live it up. So when the record doesn't chart and then the label forgets it we can still jump ourselves in bed with the It __boys__ of the minute." _

Roxas froze. On stage the band was moving into the chorus again, a solid half the audience singing along, but the blond standing about mid-way back, one arm still held in a death grip by his pale-faced brother, had fallen completely silent, staring wide-eyed up at the stage. He knew the words to this song. It'd gotten stuck in his head at school yesterday and he'd wound up listening to it a couple times that afternoon, enough times that he learned most of the words, and he knew, he _knew_that they were supposed to be jumping into bed with the It girls of the minute, not the It boys.

"Roxas, please," Sora whined, demanding the blond's attention.

Roxas turned a distracted eye on him, frowning slightly. There was definitely something wrong, he didn't need to use his SuperTwinSenses to realize that something was freaking Sora out, but he had absolutely no idea what was making his brother stare at him with such wide-eyed panic.

"We can't leave now they've started," Roxas reasoned. "The stage lights aren't that intense, they'll notice us. If you're trying not to be seen we're better off hiding in the dark corner of the crowd and sneaking out with the masses at the end of the set." This was mostly true, but Roxas knew that really, despite the guilty, selfish squirm in his gut, that he wanted an excuse to stay and keep listening to the red-headed lead singer beg them to run away with him.

Sora, staring at Roxas as though he'd just offered salvation, didn't seem to notice. "You're right. Yeah. Good idea. Just...inconspicuous."

Roxas, in his attempt to honor Sora's muttered wishes, did his level best not to gape like a dead fish at his brother. Who was this person masquerading as his twin?

His curiosity, despite Sora's bizarre behavior, was short-lived. Melodious Nocturne followed their opening song with another original and then a pretty sick mash up of Cute is What We Aim For and The Maine before segueing seamlessly back into more originals. Their enthusiasm as they ran around the stage in the strangest and most endearing performance Roxas had ever seen was infectious. Even Sora crept out slightly from where he'd taken to hiding half-behind Roxas, smirking and shaking his head when the redhead danced across the stage and promptly got hip-checked into one of the amps by Demyx.

"What's up Twilight Town," the lead singer called when they were a little over an hour into the set, coming down from the end of a cover of a Blink-182 song. He grinned widely at the loud response from the decently-sized crowd. "For those of you who don't know us," Sora shrank back behind Roxas again as a piercing stare swept the crowd, "my name's Axel and this is Melodious Nocturne."

Tumultuous applause erupted as he spread his arms wide, gesturing to the sheepishly smirking bassist on his right, Demyx pulling faces on his left, and the drummer spinning his sticks behind them. Roxas was impressed in spite of himself...for a band that spent half their set covering other bands' music, they seemed to have a pretty decent following for themselves.

"Anyway, we slightly overplayed our set, and therefore don't have time to dramatically walk off stage, pretend we're done, and then see how long we can make you guys clap for before we decide to come back out and play the encore that everyone already knows is coming. Instead, we're just going to play and call it one last song, fair?"

Roxas laughed. Sora, one hand fisted in the sleeve of the blond's hoody, tugged sharply. "Perfect, let's go while they're still on stage."

They turned to look at the door, frowning slightly as both boys assessed the layout of the bar. The exit doors were almost level with the backstage area: there was absolutely no way to walk out while still avoiding the stage. Roxas, personally, still thought the best bet was to sneak out with the crowd, even if he had no idea why sneaking out was necessary, but Sora was already biting his lip and pushing in front of Roxas, slipping between two people avidly watching the stage. Roxas followed with a bemused shrug.

And froze.

He would recognize those chords anywhere. He would recognize that intro if he lost all hearing in one ear and the band had forgotten to plug their amps in and a stadium full of people were all screaming different words, and he certainly, certainly recognized that string of notes Demyx was coaxing from his yellow guitar. Sora, from the way his shoulders suddenly tensed, recognized it too.

"No," Sora shook his head, preemptively protesting Roxas' begging. "No, no, nonono. Rox I need...ugh..."

Roxas, guilty feeling gone straight out the window in light this surprisingly awesome band closing their set with a cover of his all time favorite song in the history of ever, recognized defeat when he saw it. He didn't even bother to gloat about it, turning back to the stage just in time to catch Axel open his mouth.

_"When I watch you. Wanna do you. Right where you're standing. Yeahhh."_

It was pandemonium. The audience had been into the show before now, most of them singing along with the songs that they all knew, and even a solid half of them singing along to the band's original numbers, but this...there wasn't a person Roxas could see not dancing and singing along to the Say Anything cover, jumping up and down and screaming as Axel climbed up onto an amp and held the mic out to the audience.

"_No. I won't let them take you,won't let them take you. Hell no, no, oh no. I won't let them take you, won't let them take you. Hell no, no._"

And it was spectacular, really, the way the singer fell back and let the audience run with the chorus, the Demyx and the silver-haired bassist offering the repeated support of "_Alive. Alive. Alive with love. Alive with love tonight_." Roxas could taste it in the air even as the words fell from his own tongue, could see it shining in the redhead's proud expression as he reclaimed the mic in time for the next verse.

"You have that look on your face," Sora, at least, waited for the song to end before leaning into Roxas with a smirk. The blond barely heard his twin over the roar of the crowd, the words drifting lazily over his ears as he clapped harder than he had all night, utterly incapable of wiping away the stupid grin splitting his jaw.

"What look?" Roxas asked, finally letting Sora's statement sink in as the brunet grabbed his wrist and started forcefully tugging. He kept inadvertently stumbling into people as Sora dragged him along, unable, or maybe just unwilling, to drag his eyes away from the stage and break the spell that seemed to have come over most of the audience.

"The dangerous one." Sora didn't elaborate. He'd apparently had enough of indulging Roxas now that the show was really, truly over, and had moved on to fighting his way through the crowd, glancing at the stage every few seconds to check for the band's progress. All four band members had disappeared by now, which was the only reason Roxas had finally torn his gaze away in time to catch the slight droop of Sora's shoulders when he caught sight of the empty stage.

"Hey."

Roxas walked smack dab into Sora's still-droopy shoulders, not noticing in time that his brother had come to a dead halt in the middle of the crowd, staring forward with the ultimate deer-in-headlights expression. The blond shifted slightly, peering around the wild crown of Sora's messy brown spikes, and felt his eyebrows practically disappear into his own shock of hair.

Standing directly in front of Sora, one hand gripping the brunet's arm, seemingly oblivious to the small crowd of chattering girls swarming around him, was Melodious Nocturne's silver-haired bass player, fresh off the stage. And Sora, rather than recovering from his deer-stare with what Roxas expected to be a 'who the hell are you?' expression, was letting go of Roxas' arm to run his free hand distractedly through his hair.

"Hey," he said finally, glancing at the musician out of the corner of his eye. Roxas raised an eyebrow, and the expression was mirrored by the taller teen.

"Don't run off, yeah? Stick around until the crowd dies out a bit."

And Sora, to Roxas' utter bewilderment, barely even glanced back at his twin before nodding, looking the bassist in the eye for the first time. The other boy's lips quirked up in a small smile before he turned away from them, plastering a much wider grin on his face as he was approached by the first group of fans.

"What the fuck was that?" Roxas hissed, blue eyes wide as Sora all but about-faced, dragging Roxas away from the door they had been bee-lining for and instead over to the significantly less crowded bar. Sora frowned at him, waiting until they were both sequestered into the quietest corner he could find before even pretending to offer an explanation.

"Oh that," Sora said flippantly. Roxas snorted: nonchalance was not a look his brother could ever in a million years manage. "Yeah, that's just Riku."

"Riku?"

"He was best friends with Kairi when she lived on Destiny Island. Came up here for school last year and they reconnected. I went with her to a few of his friends' parties over the summer, up at Twilight Tech."

"Uh huh," Roxas, on the other hand, pulled off non-plussed just fine. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared impassively back at his brother, patiently unmoving until, sure enough, Sora began to squirm under the scrutiny.

"What?" he finally whined.

Roxas all but rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath like he didn't even know where to start. Truthfully, he didn't. If he didn't know better he would say that Riku, first with his appearance on stage, then with his arrival in the audience, was the reason behind the trapped look still lingering in the corner of Sora's expression. That didn't make any sense though. Roxas had never even heard Riku's name mentioned before, but if he was a good friend of Kairi's Sora couldn't possibly be that intimidated by him. Besides, Sora made it sound like the two of them had hung out before. "So, seriously, what the hell's going on? Ten seconds ago you were trying to haul ass outta here."

"Huh? No I wasn't."

Roxas gaped at his twin, allowing several silent moments to pass as he studied the very-poorly-faked expression of confused innocence carefully schooled onto Sora's features. "So...are you two...friends then?"

"I – not really."

"Then what the hell does he want us to stay for?"

"I don't know," Sora squirmed uncomfortably under the lie. "I guess he's just wondering what we're doing here? Oh, god, he's totally going to think I'm some kind of creepy stalker now."

There was the edge of panic Roxas had been waiting for, half an explanation for Sora's bizarre behavior. Captain Cool was afraid of looking like a weirdo in front of Kairi's older (and, although Sora probably hadn't noticed, ridiculously hot), badass college friends.

"Because you came to see his show?" Roxas rolled his eyes. "You're twisted. Tell him I wanted to come see a band and dragged you along with me. You didn't even know their name."

Sora worried his bottom lip between his teeth, watching something over Roxas' shoulder. The blond turned, following his brother's gaze to the gaggle of squawking teenage girls huddled around Riku. He didn't blame them, honestly, he wouldn't have minded getting closer to that long silver hair, although truthfully, if he had to choose between the bandmates Riku wouldn't have been his first choice...

"Does that mean you know all of them?" Roxas asked, turning back to Sora.

The brunet shrugged. "I've hung out with them once or twice. Axel's Riku's best friend and roommate, so they're a package deal a lot of the time, but Axel and Kairi don't really get along so it's mostly just Riku. Demyx is chill but he's always either working or surfing down at the shore with his roommate. I've never met the drummer, but I know his name's Luxord and that he's older than the rest of them. Why?"

"Is...do you know...Axel...?"

"Do you have a prayer?" Sora smirked, some of the tension draining from his features. "Told you you had that dangerous look on your face. I'm not sure though...Axel's one of those guys who'll flirt with a brick wall if it gives him the time of day, so it's hard to tell who he's actually hitting on."

"That's not what I meant," Roxas said stiffly, the small smile quirking the corner of his lips shamelessly betraying his lie. "Think the fangirls have stopped mobbing your new BFF yet?"

"He's not – shut up," Sora grumbled, turning to look back over Roxas' shoulder again. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, prompting Roxas to twist around and come nearly nose-to-nose with the bassist himself.

"Whoa," Roxas jumped, taking half a step back. "Sorry."

Riku shrugged. "My fault for sneaking up. Anyway, sorry about that, Axel gets cranky when I'm 'emo and anti-social and not nice to the fans,'" he explained, using proper air quotes around Axel's prognosis. Roxas struggled to restrain his amused snort of laughter. It wasn't hard to picture this kid, with his long hair hanging down into his eyes and his nothing-but-black-and-white clothes, as an anti-social emo kid.  
>Sora made no such attempt at restraint. "I didn't know you knew how to be nice," he teased. Roxas raised an eyebrow, watching as the same small, genuine smile from before reappeared on Riku's face.<p>

"I can be nice," he said huffily. "Watch." He turned back to Roxas, holding out a pale hand. "Hey, I'm Riku. Sora's apparently lost his manners, but you must be Roxas. I've heard a lot about you."

"It's nice to meet you," Roxas drawled, unable to fully keep the wary confusion out of his tone.

Sora rolled his eyes good-naturedly, doing yet another poor job of schooling his expression. "So you never mentioned your band's name was Melodious Nocturne."

"Bet that was a surprise, then," Riku smirked. Roxas fought back the urge to bang his head against the nearest hard surface. "So you mean Demyx never tried to corner you into coming to one of our shows? I'm shocked, he's normally all about the sneak attack band promotion."

"Worked on him!"

All three boys turned, eyeing the newcomer with various levels of amusement.

"Roxas, right?" Demyx clapped Roxas on the shoulder, grinning. "Should have realized you were Sora's brother. Also should have gotten both of you here ages ago. You like the show?"

"Yeah," Roxas nodded, completely truthfully. "Especially the not-encore."

Demyx laughed. "We always close with 'Alive With the Glory of Love,' when the theme allows for it. It's Axel's all-time favorite and the fans seem to enjoy it so, hey, why mess with a good thing?"

"Because we've gotten shamelessly predictable?" Riku muttered.

The taller blond glared, but there wasn't much force behind the look. "Don't listen to him, he's just bitter that we still haven't covered his favorite song yet. I keep trying to tell him that Axel's voice will never be able to do Britney justice, but Riku's determined."

"I hate you," the bassist growled. Sora laughed. "Go away, Dem."

"Can't," he sighed, "I'm on a very important mission. Poor Axel's loading the van all by his lonesome right now, so I've come to recruit volunteers."

"Don't look at me," Riku insisted. "I loaded everything to bring it here tonight. You do it."

"Unloaded, and set up the stage," Demyx sing-songed. "That gives me official post-performance loafing privileges, as per your rules. And no, I have no idea where Luxord is."

"Over there," Sora supplied helpfully, pointing across the dark bar at the blond blatantly oogling the bartender.

"With Larxene," Demyx sighed. "Should have known. Well, that leaves you, Ri."

"Ow," Roxas hissed, glaring at his twin as the two musicians began arguing.

"Whoops," Sora glanced down, gingerly lifting his foot from where he had stomped down on Roxas' toes. "My bad, Rox." He ignored Roxas' glare, skipping straight ahead to giving his brother his biggest and most pleading puppy dog eyes. Roxas frowned, cocking his head to the side . Sora flicked his eye sideways, staring quickly, but pointedly, at Demyx. Roxas narrowed his eyes. Demyx? How the hell was he supposed to get rid of Demyx? And, for that matter, why the hell was he supposed to get rid of Demyx?

"Come on, Dem, just find someone else to do it. I don't care, pull some rando from the bar," Riku was whining. Sora widened his eyes pointedly, staring meaningfully at Roxas. Roxas glared right back. Sora pouted. Roxas sighed.

"Uh, I can...I mean...I'll help him." Roxas did his level best to keep the resignation in his tone to the bare minimum.

Demyx and Riku both turned mid argument, a wide smile breaking over Demyx' face even as he began shaking his head. "No, don't be silly, it wouldn't be right to make you do that. Besides, you barely even know us."

"Nah, he'd be happy to," Sora cut in quickly.

Roxas hastily stepped to the right, artfully dodging Sora's second sneaker attack. "No, really," Roxas sighed. "It's fine. I'm so pumped up right now anyway, I might as well do something with all the energy. Besides, technically I still owe you for that CD."

Demyx laughed. "Well, if you insist. Come on, I'll show you out back."

"Nice meeting you, Roxas," Riku said, flashing another half-smirk at the blond. Roxas nodded, shooting Sora one last withering glare before turning away, following Demyx through the rapidly thinning crowd towards the backstage area. The taller blond pointed him towards a set of doors leading out to a side-alleyway, waving him off with another cheeky grin and a 'thanks again, Roxas, Riku owes you one.'

Roxas stepped outside and was immediately hit by the cool rush of fresh air. He hadn't realized just how hot and muggy it had been inside until feeling the late summer breeze on his clammy skin, so he allowed himself a moment, breathing it in and surveying the dimly lit alley.

"Whoo – FUCK."

Roxas rushed forward, grabbing onto one end of a particularly large speaker just in time to stop the entire thing, carrier including, from crashing bodily into the pavement. The equipment was large enough to block Roxas' view of the other person's face, but even if he hadn't been sent out here specifically to help Axel, it would have been hard not to recognize the lead singer's voice after spending the last hour soaking up every word.

"Shit, that was close."

"No wonder, this shit's heavy," Roxas grunted, hefting the speaker up as much as possible and bracing it against his hip.

Axel, or so he hoped, gave a muffled snort of laughter from the other side. "Seriously," he agreed. "If we live through this –"

"You can thank me later," Roxas groaned. The side of his thigh collided heavily with what he sincerely, sincerely hoped was the back bumper of the band's equipment van.

"Did you just quote Anastasia at me?" Axel guffawed, heaving up his end of the speaker as he spoke.

Roxas winced. "You started it," he grumbled defensively. He braced himself against the side of the car, waiting for any sign from the musician about when and where they were going to put the monstrosity down.

"Yeah, but I didn't really expect you to get it. I think I love you," Axels sighed, still laughing breathily. "On three we're dropping this, ready? One. Two. Three." They tilted the speaker into the back of the van, both jumping slightly at the loud thud as it crashed to the carpeted floor. Roxas stepped back as Axel shifted forward, crazy red hair finally coming into view as he hunched down in front of the equipment, braced both hands and a shoulder against the machine, and shoved.

"Whew," he sighed dramatically, straightening up and dusting his hands off before running one through his slightly damp hair. He finally turned, an easy grin sliding across his pointed features at the sight of Roxas standing in front of him.

"Hmm," Axel smirked slightly, running an appraising eye over Roxas, "well-versed in classic animated movies and cute. Very nice. I'm Axel." He held out his free hand, and Roxas took it slightly dazedly. He had, it appeared, been wrong about that MySpace picture: Axel's eyes did not need any help from Photoshop to be that vividly green.

"Roxas," he supplied quickly, realizing that he'd been holding the redhead's hand for just a tick too long. "Demyx was trying to talk Riku into coming out here, but somehow I wound up getting roped in instead."

Understanding flashed across Axel's face, but there was something about the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a silent breath of laughter that made Roxas think he'd answered more than just one unasked question.

"You're Sora's brother," Axel accused, green eyes narrowing slightly. He leaned over and grabbed a small milk crate of wires, tossing it unceremoniously into the van.

"How is it that everyone seems to know my brother, but I don't know anything about any of you," Roxas sighed exasperatedly. He followed the singer's lead, hefting up a bag of what looked like crash cymbals.

Axel chuckled. "He's just one of those guys, isn't it?"

"You don't even know," Roxas rolled his eyes.

"Shame, though," Axel teased. "He should have spent less time making friends and more time introducing us to his much hotter twin brother."

Roxas was quite sure he was blushing to the very roots of his blond hair. He cleared his throat, scraping one hand along the back of his neck. "Uh...yeah, anyway. Demyx – Riku – right. Yeah. Demyx wanted Riku to come help you out but I guess Sora wanted to talk to Riku or something, so..."

It was Axel's turn to roll his eyes, doing a very poor job of covering up a snort of laughter with a cough. "Yeah, they seem to have hit it off pretty well. Kairi, at any rate, seems to like bringing Sora along. That way he and Riku entertain each other and then neither of them notice when Kairi's off slutting it up."

Roxas still couldn't help feeling like he was missing something, though admittedly the thought was almost instantaneously waylaid by the comment about Kairi. "Kairi? Slutting it up? No way, she's so innocent. I'm pretty sure there's actually a running bet going about who's going to be the first guy in our class to sleep with her, since she's the only girl in the popular crowd who hasn't been written about on the bathroom wall."

"Really?" Axel sounded incredibly amused, bending down to grab a guitar case. Roxas reached for another one, pausing when Axel shook his head. "Not that one. That one's mine."

"Does yours get special treatment?" Roxas teased, moving instead towards the keyboard stand.

"Of course she does," Axel insisted, staring at Roxas as though this was a patently stupid question. "She doesn't get used that often, I only get play when Demyx has to play keyboard and we need someone to cover the guitar part, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't be well taken care of. Not my fault those other idiots don't take better care of theirs."

"I'll keep that in mind," Roxas rolled his eyes playfully. He gingerly lifted Axel's case and set it aside from the rest of the equipment still waiting to be loaded.

"So does that mean you'll be coming back, then?" Axel asked, cocking his head to side slightly as he studied the smaller blond. Roxas raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what Axel was talking about. "To another show," he clarified.

"Oh, yeah probably," Roxas shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. He had forgotten, as unlikely as that seemed considering what they were doing, that Axel was the lead singer of the band he'd spent the last week obsessing over on his iPod. "You guys were pretty good."

"You think so? Thanks, Roxas."

It was kind of sweet, Roxas realized, the way Axel seemed genuinely surprised, and gratified, that Roxas seemed to like his band. He weighed the pros and cons of gushing the way he might have if someone like, say, Naminé had asked him about the show instead of someone actually in the band. Maybe complete swooning was a bit over the top, but he could probably go with some light praise.

"I like the way you guys seem to split your time pretty evenly between covers and originals. There's something to be said about a really quality cover of an already good song. It was cool the way you guys kind of make them your own too. You know, instead of trying to make your voice conform to the original...I'm rambling, aren't I?" Roxas bit his lip awkwardly. So much for not gushing?

Axel shook his head, grinning. "No, I love it. I'm glad you like the covers. A lot of people say covers are cheap, but I mean, we have a standing Friday night show once a month here, plus the occasional outside venue that'll book us for something. We can't play the same damn show every time, and we only have so many original songs. Don't want to be too predictable, you know?"

"Other than closing with 'Alive With the Glory of Love?'" Roxas teased. "Demyx said you guys close with that whenever you can."

"That's the exception," Axel insisted. "Got a problem with it?"

"Absolutely not," Roxas shook his head. "It's only about my all time favorite song in the history of the world. You could probably just play it on repeat for an hour straight and call it a show and I'd still come."

Axel's grin, if possible, doubled in size. "I knew I liked you," he said enthusiastically. "It's my favorite too. So yeah, we play it whenever the theme allows for it."

"That's the same thing Demyx said. What do you mean, whenever the theme allows for it?" Roxas asked, puzzled. Axel's green eyes gleamed delightedly, like he'd been hoping that Roxas would ask about that.

"It's the same kind of thing with how we play covers because we don't want the show to get too boring. When we do our regular monthly show at Organization here, they're always themed so we have a good excuse not to play the same exact shit every time. Tonight's theme was pretty lame, we just released that EP a few weeks ago so tonight was just 'The Show That Never Was' and all music that was either from or considered for the EP, but we've had some pretty great shows."

"Like what?" Roxas found himself absolutely fascinated by this. It was something he'd never heard of before, a band gearing their performances towards specific themes, and admittedly, if anyone else tried to do it they probably would have failed spectacularly. Melodious Nocturne, he had a suspicious belief, probably pulled it off with aplomb.

"One night we only did songs that started with the letter R, cause it was Riku's birthday. Last Valentine's day we did only bitter, violently angry break up songs...lots of bitter single girls at that show," Axel mused, looking reminiscent. "Told Sora the other day that for his birthday we'd do only songs about getting absolutely wasted. Suppose that's your birthday too, so I guess you'll have to come to that show. Larx already promised to accidentally lose our bill when it comes time to pay the tab that night."

"Exactly how often do you hang out with Sora?" the blond frowned. How was it possible that Sora had never, ever mentioned even going with Kairi to hang out up at the college, but he was apparently there often enough that Axel was promising to dedicate a show to him? According to Sora he hadn't even known the name of their band.

"Not as often as you're thinking," Axel said quickly, holding up a placating hand. "Nah, in this case I'm just capitalizing on a good excuse to use a theme I've wanted to play with for a while. So what do you think," he gestured around them, and Roxas was surprised to realize that other than Axel's guitar propped over by the door, all the equipment was gone.

"Guess we're done," Roxas shrugged. "Look at that. Everything's off the stage inside?"

"Yup," Axel nodded. "The bar has a few stagehands that help us with set up and break down, but only so far as what's in the bar. They carry everything outside and we're in charge of taking care of it from there. Bunch of jackasses," he added, mumbling under his breath.

Roxas laughed. Axel grinned sheepishly, picking up his guitar and pulling the door open for Roxas. "Come on, lets go find your brother and my incredibly lazy roommate."

They stepped inside to a completely different scene than the one Roxas had left. Everyone who had stayed behind after the show was crowded around the bar, all evidence that a concert had taken place hidden under what looked like a perfectly ordinary Friday night at a bar. Roxas spared a second to wonder if he was even allowed in here anymore, frowning when he realized that meant that Sora wouldn't have been either.

"Where's Riku, I have to kick his ass," Axel announced, dropping down into the booth where Demyx was sitting with what appeared to be charcoal gray hair and a single indigo-colored eye. The eye blinked up at him, narrowing slightly at the sight of Roxas trailing along behind Axel.

"He left," Demyx shrugged. "Sorry, Roxas, this is Zexion, our mostly manager but occasional merch girl. Zex, this is Roxas."

The charcoal hair shifted slightly as the person shook his hair back out of his face and sat up, leaning forward out of the dark corner of the booth. Roxas was momentarily surprised by the appearance of a whole person, taking in the pale features, charcoal and black striped thermal despite the summer height, and decidedly emo-kid haircut that covered a solid half of his face.

"Hey," Roxas nodded.

Zexion raised an eyebrow. "Sora's brother," he said dismissively. It wasn't a question.

"Apparently my brother gets around," Roxas sighed. Zexion didn't quite smile, but the smirk that crossed his face was close enough that Roxas wasn't quite as intimidated as he had been a second ago. Axel, who second before had been helping himself to Demyx' beer, choked noisily, slamming the bottle back down onto the table as he coughed.

"Right," Roxas drawled slowly, cocking his head to the side as he studied Axel's red cheeks. "Speaking of, where is Sora?"

Demyx and Axel, still slightly red in the face, exchanged glances. Roxas, who had played this game often enough with Sora, recognized instantly the silent conversation passing between the two band mates. He was definitely, definitely missing something major here, and he was going to find out what it was as soon as he managed to track down Sora and beat it out of him.

"Soooraaa..." Demyx said slowly. "Sora. He...ah..." Demyx trailed off, looking helplessly around the table for several uncomfortable seconds. It was Zexion who finally took pity on him, rolling his eyes and clearing his throat.

"Sora left with Riku," he informed Roxas bluntly. "Riku said something about going to meet up with Kairi, and Larxene was kind of stressing about someone underage here after hours, so Sora went with him. I think they said something about going to...um...Marly's house?"

Roxas heaved an impressively aggravated sigh. "Typical," he muttered. "Well, guess that's my cue then. I better bounce. It was nice meeting all of you, the show was awesome, so thanks for that..."

"Wait," Axel said, pushing himself to his feet and sliding out from behind the table. "I'll walk you home."

"You don't have to walk me home," Roxas felt bad for the slight note of scorn in his voice but, really. "I'm not a twelve-year-old girl, I can make it home alright without my brother."

"I know you're not," Axel said quickly, shooting Zexion a dirty look. Roxas reasoned that it was probably because the dark-haired boy was significantly better than Axel at hiding a snort behind a cough. "And of course you can. But I want to. Besides, I have to pass your house to get back to the dorms, and there's only room for two people in the van, so someone was going to have to walk home tonight anyway."

Roxas decided not to comment on the fact that Axel apparently knew where he lived. "I mean, I guess if you're going that way anyway, beats walking home alone."

"Well, that's settled then," Demyx announced cheerfully. "Axel, we'll see you back at school. Roxas, it was great seeing you again, make sure you tell your brother to bring you along next time he comes out to us for the night. Everyone get home safe, now get out."

"Yes sir," Roxas responded. He couldn't help but get the feeling that Demyx, who he was slowly realizing had now gotten Roxas to do what the guitarist wanted him to do for the third of all three times they'd spoken, was smarter than he looked.

"Hold on," Axel said quickly. "Let me just grab Lola."

"Who?" Roxas asked, twisting around on the spot to watch Axel pick up his guitar. The redhead waved over his shoulder at his friends, walking away from the table without answering. Roxas scrambled after him, hurrying out the door and back into the fresh air. "Seriously, your guitar's name is Lola."

"It's a perfectly good name," Axel insisted. "Appropriate for a cherry red guitar. It's a little bit slutty, has some classic musical history, and rolls off the tongue nicely. Besides, the second choice was Roxanne, which didn't have the same ring. Although," he mused, "it would have been great if I could have said to you, Roxas, that my guitar was named Roxanne."

Roxas laughed even as he shook his head. "Classic musical history?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Obviously," Axel said. "Come on, the song 'Lola' by The Kinks?"

Roxas shook his head.

"_I met her in a club down in old Soho_," Axel crooned, leaning forward right up into Roxas' face. "_Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like cherry-cola. See-oh-el-aye cola. She walked up to me and she asked me to dance, I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said Lola. El-oh-el-aye Lola, la-la-la-la Lola._"

"Never heard it," Roxas insisted, pressing one hand against the redhead's face in an attempt to push him away. Axel kept singing even as he laughed.

"_Well I'm not the world's most physical guy, but when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine. Oh my Lola, la-la-la-la Lola. Well I'm not dumb but I can't understand why she walked like a woman and talked like a man. Oh my Lola, la-la-la-la Lola, la-la-la-la Lola._"

"Oh my god," Roxas gasped through his laughter, "tell me it's not about a guy who gets tricked by a crossdresser."

"Lola is an absolute queen," Axel argued solemnly.

"In every sense of the word?" Roxas challenged. The redhead grinned.

"How about this one," he tried. "_Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl. With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there_."

"For the love of all things musical, stop," Roxas begged. "Aren't you supposed to be a good singer?"

"It's all about auto-tune these days," Axel teased. "If it wasn't for that T-Pain app on my iPhone I wouldn't even be able to get up on stage most nights. Thank god for that," he sighed.

"You're absurd," Roxas declared. "Fine, I won't challenge you on Lola's good name." They walked in silence for a few steps, surprisingly companionable silence considering they'd barely pushed the one hour mark on their relationship. "You know, you really didn't have to walk me home. Just because I'm underage doesn't mean you couldn't have stayed with Demyx and Zexion, they looked like they were having a good time."

"Yeah, but I wanted to," Axel shrugged. "Besides, I do have ulterior motives."

"Do you?" Roxas said dryly. He couldn't help but wonder what those were, and as much as he wouldn't mind some of the options, it seemed kind of counterproductive for Axel to share in advance... (really, someone should smack him soon, before this little thread of thought ran away with itself).

"Yeah, I forgot my damn keys, I'm kind of hoping we run into Sora and Riku somewhere near your house so I can bum Riku's keys off him," Axel gave him a hangdog look, and Roxas couldn't help the feeling that this was hardly a first for the redhead.

"That happen often?"

"You have no idea," the redhead sighed self-depreciatingly. "It's fine, if I get home before Riku does I'll just go crash in Demyx' room. Pretty sure Xiggy went home for the weekend though, which takes all the fun out of it."

"Xiggy?" Roxas raised an eyebrow.

"Xigbar. Dem's roommate," Axel elaborated. "Chill guy, not really into Melodious Nocturne, but he and Demyx were paired together last year and got along well enough. He kind of just does his own thing, you know?"

"Which is what?" the blond asked.

"Surfing. The guy goes surfing at least once a day, no matter how cold or rainy or what the hell ever it is. Seriously, when he's not in class he's at the beach. Dem likes to go with him sometimes, but really his one great love is music, so it's not too hard to distract Demyx away from his surfboard for the sake of band rehearsal."

"So if Demyx lives with Xigbar and you and Riku live together, where does Zexion come in?" He had to admit, he was a little bit fascinated by the whole dynamic. It was nice, for one thing, hearing about people he hadn't known for most of his life, and it was good to hear about what he had to look forward to next year. Axel didn't seem to mind telling it either, shoving both hands in his pockets as he opened his mouth again.

"Zex and Demyx have their own weird history. Something about Demyx being a typical asshole freshman last year and drunkenly stumbling into the wrong room. Claims he was convinced the fourth floor was really the sixth floor, but how you screw up by two full flights of stairs is beyond me. Anyway, he apparently tried to climb into bed with Zexion, thinking it was his own, and Zex, in an uncharacteristic display of charity, helped idiot boy out," Axel grinned fondly. "He's kinda been around ever since. He's a cool guy though, good kid. Quiet, but brilliant, and wicked funny once he opens up. He still talks to Demyx more than the rest of us, but they've had a whole year worth of classes together too, so Demyx got a head start on the rest of us."

"They're in the same major?"

"Yup, sound mixing and sound editing. Well, they're both double majoring, Zexion because he's a pain in the ass overachiever like that and Demyx because he can't function if he doesn't get his hands on a musical instrument at least once a day, but there's still a decent amount of overlap," Axel shrugged.

"So I take it you guys are all in the film department at Twilight Tech?" Roxas guessed. Twilight Town was home to Twilight Technical Institute, a college that specialized in the production of both film and performance. Twilight Town itself, being a suburb of the much larger Radiant Gardens, was known in the city proper as the Theatre District, making it the perfect place for such a school. Roxas himself had no interest whatsoever in it, but plenty of people from his high school had gone on to Twilight Tech, enough that he knew at least a little something about it.

"Yup," Axel nodded. "Dem and Zex with their music and editing, Riku's studying something that sounds complicated but is really just lighting effects, and I'm there for pyrotechnics." He added that last part with an endearing flourish of pride, and that was all Roxas needed to know that the singer was obsessed with his craft.

"Pyrotechnics?" he repeated. "Cool. So you get to blow shit up and stuff?"

"Sometimes, yeah," Axel boasted. "Mostly I just like playing with fire. Have ever since I was little, you know, I was always that kid who would get way, way too close to the bonfire for my parent's comfort. Always figured I'd have to do something with fire in order to ever have fun as an adult, and well, I just couldn't see myself as a firefighter. Probably because I'd be so distracted by the pretty flames I'd forget to turn the hose on."

Roxas chuckled, having no problem at all picturing the other teen staring wide-eyed at a burning building.

"What about you?" Axel asked after a few moments of silence.

The blond glanced sideways, eyeing the other boy. "What about me?"

"Well," Axel waved one hand dismissively. "I've more or less given you the basics. Name's Axel Flynn, I just turned 20 a few weeks ago, I'm a sophomore at Twilight Tech Film Academy studying Pyrotechnics. My best friend and roommate is Riku Sefirosu, and he and I and two of our other friends, Demyx Kuso and Luxord Atkin are in a band called Melodious Nocturne that likes to play really ridiculous shows on a monthly basis in hopes of one day getting to ditch all this school shit to go on a totally awesome tour and become fabulously famous and wealthy."

"Well, when you put it that way..." Roxas laughed. "Okay. Um, my name is Roxas Strife, I'm a couple months shy of 18. I'm a senior at Twilight Town High School North with my twin brother Sora, the Blitzball star. I also have an older brother named Cloud who lives in the city and may or may not have a boyfriend that he refuses to talk about." It had been so long since he'd last spoken to someone he hadn't known since kindergarten that he barely remembered how to start. Besides, the conversation had been flowing so naturally up until now that he'd hardly given it any thought.

"If he's not talking about it then they're definitely dating," Axel ventured. "But more importantly, I asked about you, and you told me about your brothers. I want to know about you. Like...where do you want to go to school?"

"Hollow Bastion University is the pipe dream," Roxas sighed. "Whether or not that'll ever happen remains to be seen, but it's a nice thought. Anything to get me far enough away from here that I won't have to see anyone ever again. Hell, I'd go as far as Destiny Islands if there was a decent school there."

"Not a big fan of Twilight Town?" the redhead guessed.

Roxas shook his head vehemently. "No. It's kind of...small."

"You think so?" Axel raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I mean, I've lived here my whole life and I'm almost sure that I've never seen you before."

"Really?"

"Yup, born and raised here. Although I did go to Twilight High East, not North, and I did graduate two years above you," Axel elaborated. "You really think it's small though?"

"Considering the number of people that supposedly live here, hell yeah," Roxas insisted. "Forget six degrees of separation, I'll bet you could play three degrees of separation with anyone in this town, even two people who have never met. Look at us, we didn't know a thing about each other before tonight, but you know my brother. I bet I could name five people off the top of my head and you'd know half of them."

"And how, exactly, do you know half of five people?" Axel challenged teasingly, raising a mocking eyebrow.

"By know of them but never having met them," Roxas counted quickly. "Seriously. Bet you twenty bucks we know at least two and a half of the same people, not counting the ones we've already talked about."

"You're on," Axel agreed. "First five people off the top of your head, aaand go:"

"Naminé Majo, Hayner Dincht, Seifer Almasy, Saïx Claymore, and, uh, Olette Onna," he listed, ticking the names off on his fingers. "Know any of them?"

"Now that's just cheating," Axel scoffed. "Come on, Naminé is Kairi's friend, Kairi's brought her around a couple of times, and everyone knows Seifer Almasy, he's that douchebag always hanging out around the Sandlot."

"Not cheating," Roxas sang, grinning. "How was I supposed to know that Nam's met you? Some best friend she is, not even telling me she'd made new friends. And who was I to know that Seifer's notoriety made it as far as Twilight North?"

"So, so cheating," the singer insisted. "Cheater, cheater, cheater."

"Speaking of, there are still three more names on the list," Roxas reminded him. "Anyone else?"

"Hayner? Never heard of him. And who was that other girl, Omelet?" Axel tried, frowning in concentration.

"Olette," Roxas rolled his eyes, correcting the other teen out of force of habit more than anything else. It'd been a while since he'd heard what used to be the frequent butchering of Olette's name.

"Yeah, don't know her either," Axel shrugged. "Someone should tell her to try to come up with a nickname or something though, otherwise people are just going to start calling her Omelet."

Roxas snickered in spite of himself. Olette passionately despised when people screwed her name up; he was starting to think maybe it would serve her right to be on the receiving end of a few smirks for a change.

"What about Saïx," Roxas asked. "Come on, he's the one to make it or break it."

"You're not...friends with him, are you?" Axel said cautiously. Roxas glanced up at the redhead, surprised at the somewhat cold tone his voice had suddenly affected. It was the first time all night Axel looked or sounded anything other than friendly, and if it hadn't made Roxas panic slightly he probably would have found it somewhat gratifying.

"Me? Friends with Saïx?" Roxas couldn't hold back the loud guffaw of laughter that escaped through his lips, taking a few beats to get his cackles under control before he tried speaking again. Even then his words were laced with the occasional snicker. "Me, friends with Saïx. Oh man. That'd be the fucking day. Hahaha, no. definitely no. A big, huge, extremely loud and resounding oh god, no. In fact, I'm pretty sure Saïx would either kill himself or beat both of us up at the mere suggestion."

The suspicious expression cleared from Axel's face almost instantly, quickly replaced by a look that said all too well that Axel completely understood. "That's definitely a no, then?"

"I'm a little too gay for him," Roxas said by way of explanation.

Axel laughed loudly, glancing sideways at the blond. "Well yeah, that'd do it," he nodded. "He's got a younger brother, same age as mine. Lea and Isa were on some pee-wee sports-whatever team together back in the day and have been more or less attached at the hip ever since. Isa's alright, but his older brother...heh, well, I guess you could say I'm a little too gay for his tastes too."

"So, you're..." Roxas trailed off. It was a little funny, kind of, the way he had no problem blurting it out as a way of labeling himself, but when it came time to applying the label to someone else, even if it was someone who had just more or less said it himself, Roxas couldn't quite spit the word out.

"Gay?" Axel supplied. "Well, I believe the textbook term is bisexual. Possibly pansexual, though I've never had the opportunity to test the full extent of that theory, but really I just like to call myself an equal opportunity employer. I don't really care who you are, where you're from, or what you did, as long as you love me."

Roxas blinked. "Did you just explain your sexuality by way of a Backstreet Boys song lyric?"

"Damn, you're good," Axel grinned. "Two for two."

"Is this a common occurrence for you?" Roxas asked, faking exasperation.

"What, sneaking quotes into everyday conversation, or getting caught?"

"Both."

"Well," Axel's green eyes were crinkled from the force of his grin, the corners bunching up nearly into his eyebrows. "I guess it's kind of a bad habit, although most people only catch it about half the time. Mostly it's left over from when I was younger. My brother and I, Reno, the older one, not Lea, Lea's too young to get half this shit, we used to throw quotes back and forth at each other all the time. Sometimes we'd have entire conversations in movie quotes and no one else would even notice."

Roxas, who knew he should probably have found this to be the weirdest thing the redhead had said to him all night, couldn't help but find it alarmingly charming and endearing. "Well, I accept your challenge," he said. "I'm now going to make it a personal mission to catch as many quotes as possible."  
>"Then I will have to work on making them as obscure or random as possible," Axel countered.<p>

"Bring it," Roxas grinned.

"Done and done," Axel shot back. "Although we will have to come up with some kind of reward system for us," he mused. "You know, some little token of congratulations for either a successful catch or a successfully sneaky quote."

Roxas blushed, even though he wasn't quite sure he should be. Something in Axel's expression was almost...leering, and something in the way he'd said it sounded almost like...innuendo. Not that Roxas was opposed, of course, but still. Sure, Sora had said that Axel would flirt with a wall if he felt like it, and yeah, Axel himself had said he wasn't opposed to guys, but...

"You're not used to people flirting with you, are you?" Axel asked suddenly. He kept his eyes trained on the younger boy, watching his expression carefully.

If Roxas had been blushing before then it was nothing, nothing compared to what he was doing now. He spluttered on not much more than air for several seconds, trying to gather some way to change the subject without sounding like an absolute spaz.

"It's okay to say no," Axel said gently. "In fact, you don't really have to, that was mostly rhetorical. I'm having a hard time believing it though."

"Why?" Roxas blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Are you kidding? No offense, but you're adorable," Axel laughed. "Seriously, I'm having a really hard time imaging that you don't have little high school gays and girls crawling all over you."

"Me?" and oh god, seriously, if there was ever a time that his voice sounded less masculine and more like a mouse, Roxas would be hard pressed to remember it. "No."

"Why not?" Axel challenged, looking like he still didn't believe Roxas despite the clear evidence to the contrary.

Roxas scraped the blunt nails of one hand along the back of his neck, twisting the short blond strands of hair between his fingers. "I've been out since I was fourteen," he finally explained. "And as far as I'm aware, I'm the only one out in my school. So, you know, that kind of puts a damper on potential attention from guys, and, well, the girls figured out a while ago that I was a lost cause. Not that many of them ever went out of their way to try in the first place."

There was something in the look Axel was giving him now that Roxas couldn't quite read, something that looked like it could be compassion, or maybe a little bit of empathy, or maybe something in polar opposite direction, something a little more calculating, like intrigue.

"I'm sure you're not the only gay guy at Twilight North," Axel challenged.

Roxas scoffed. "They're sure doing a damn good job of hiding themselves, then," he muttered. "All the better for them, really."

If Axel was curious, which, and this one Roxas was sure he could read on the redhead's face, he was, he didn't say anything. "Well then," he teased, smirking slightly at the smaller blond. "I think you better start getting used to it, especially if you want to go off to that big ole' city for school, because trust me, they're going to be all over you."

It was Axel who stopped walking first, Roxas nearly continuing right onto the next block before realizing they were standing outside his house. He glanced up at the navy blue door, then further up into Sora's bedroom window, which was still decidedly dark, before turning back to look at Axel.

"Well, how, exactly, do you propose I do that?" he asked, taking the first few steps up onto his stoop. There was a small huff of laughter from his right, nothing more than a little puff of air, but it was all Roxas needed to know that Axel was smirking at him.

"Guess you'll just have to start hanging out with me more often," the redhead said, raising an eyebrow. Roxas glanced down at him from the top step, eyeing the singer standing with both hands in his front pockets at the foot of the staircase, smirking up at him with those hypnotically green eyes. No, he really didn't think that would be much of a problem for him at all.

"I suppose I could suffer through that," he gave a great, teasing sigh before falling back down into an easy grin. "See you around?"

Axel nodded, taking a few steps back towards the corner without turning his back on the blond. "Yeah, you will. Have a good night, Roxas."

And Roxas, regardless of the voice in his head reprimanding him for behaving like a particularly sappy and lovestruck teenage girl straight out of a romantic comedy, couldn't help but lean back against the doorframe and watch Axel's back until the redhead disappeared from under the streetlights.

* * *

><p>Have I mentioned that my ability to string words together in a coherent sentence has all but gone right out the window? Forgive me and I'll love you forever. Promise.<p> 


	3. Stand Too Close

**Blanket apology for the entire story, because really, this doesn't seem to be likely to change anytime soon. Seriously. Things that have happened since I published the last chapter:**

**- one of the girls I worked with quit in a spectacular fashion, dumping all of her unfinished work on the rest of us.**  
><strong>- my baby sister has left for her freshman year of college (much to my horror)<strong>  
><strong>- doctor who stole my soul for a solid week so I could try to rewatch all of this series in time for the series finale (shush, it's totally important)<strong>  
><strong>- almost got arrested (really)<strong>  
><strong>- minor car accident<strong>  
><strong>- still working about 60 hours a week.<strong>  
><strong>- the house I grew up in was officially sold and I helped my (divorced, on bad terms) parents move fifteen years worth of stuff out in the most awkward way possible ( ie. "hey mom, found your wedding photo album, what should I do with it?" "psh, dumpster?" "lol – oh…hey dad, didn't see you there.")<strong>  
><strong>- started packing so I can MOVE TO MANHATTAN THIS WEEKEND.<strong>

**So. Like. Not that I'm making excuses. Just letting you know that I haven't been lollygagging about procrastinating on this story. I promise.**

**In the mean time, there's this chapter. Hiii chapter 3. It's a little shorter than chapter 2, but I figured you guys would rather have it sooner than have me hold on to it for another week trying to beef it up a little. Besides, it's mostly just more introduction and filler. I'M SORRY. IT GETS FUN SOON, I SWEAR. REALLY SOON. NEXT CHAPTER SOON.**

**Anyway, you guys are the shit for putting up with me and for leaving such amazing and supportive reviews, so you will all always and forever have my love and gratitude. And chapters. As soon as I write them. And then more stories. As soon as I write those too.**

**Things I Own: **extra-hi black hi-tops, several pairs of five inch heels (_sorostitute_), _Rocky Horror Picture Show _on DVD, two American Apparel hoodies (neither of which are yellow)

**Things I Don't Own: **anything and everything mentioned here, pretty much. Also, I don't think I've mentioned this yet…the title "Living Proof" comes from a song by The Downtown Fiction of the same name, although the story was originally inspired by TDF's "WHere Dreams Go to Die," which is too emo to function.

* * *

><p><strong> II. October<br>****Chapter 3:**"Stand Too Close" by Motion City Soundtrack

* * *

><p>He did see Axel around. It took a little while (Roxas could have told you it was twenty-two days, if he'd been counting. Which he wasn't.), but that comes later. Other things come first. Other things like, for example, grilling the shit out of Naminé the second he got her alone after school that Monday.<p>

It had taken him two days to fully wrap his head around Friday night, to pull himself back up out of the sleepwalking mental state he seemed to have sunk into from the moment he closed the door behind him. It was only in the absence of the dream-state, though, that he began to realize some glaringly obvious details he'd somehow missed in no less than fourteen agonizing over-analyses of the entire evening:

1. Sora was fucked in the head.  
>2. Riku was involved.<br>3. Axel knew something that Roxas didn't.

There was clearly only one conclusion Roxas could draw from this:

Something. Was. Going. On.

Normally this would have left him frustrated and cranky, especially when it came to Sora keeping secrets, but this time Roxas had a secret weapon. This time, in a rare moment of stealth and cunning, Roxas was going to take advantage of the fact that his best friend was a girl. Even better than being a girl, which gave her a certain advantage in the gossip department, he'd give Naminé that, she was also best friends with _Kairi_who was obviously the missing link between Sora and Riku.

Oh he was clever.

"Naminé," He said sweetly, sidling up to his best friend. She was perched on the wall outside the school's main entrance, one hand curled around her cell phone. "What's up? Whatcha doing hanging out after school like this?"

"Nothing," the blonde sighed glumly. "I was supposed to be meeting up with Marly but apparently he's got other plans."

"Aw, bummer," Roxas frowned. "Since when does he get away with blowing you off?"

"Majo, you got a thing for fags or something?"

Naminé's eyes shot open as they both turned to stare at the blue-haired bully standing several yards away.

"I mean, seriously," Saïx continued, "don't tell me that pink-haired pansy's not a freak. And obviously this one's not interested in your snatch. I'll give you a taste if you promise to be a good girl and spread – "

"Mouth like that, Claymore, no wonder no girl lets you within fifteen feet of her. Probably afraid they'll all get diseases."

This time it was Roxas' eyes nearly bulging out of his head as all three teens turned to stare with various levels of incredulity at the newest arrival. Hayner stood with his arms crossed over his ribs, Struggle-made biceps bulging particularly threateningly in that stance.

"Never could figure out which one you liked better, the fairy or the freak. Come on, Dincht, which one is it. Majo probably wouldn't let you cop much of a feel, but Strife looks like he's _gagging_for it," Saïx sneered.

Roxas took a step forward, not entirely sure of what he was going to say but knowing he didn't like the look brewing on Hayner's face. Naminé stopped him before his foot even hit the ground, thin fingers digging into his arm as she grabbed him.

"Roxas, come on," she hissed, jumping off the wall and pushing Roxas slightly in the opposite direction. "Let's go."

"Look at that," Saïx laughed. "That's right, Strife, listen to your fag hag like a good little bitch. Run away."

"That's it, Claymore, leave them –"

"Roxas!" Naminé said shrilly, tugging on his arm. "Seriously, let's just leave." It took several sharp, fairly vicious tugs for Naminé to finally get Roxas to start moving, slowly backing away from the scene with Saïx and Hayner. Saïx continued to call insults after the pair and Hayner continued to snap back, side-stepping into the path between the bully and the blonds just as Roxas turned back for one last glance. The Struggle player, catching Roxas' eye for just barely a second, gave a brief nod.

Naminé waited until they were at least two blocks from the school and well beyond ear shot of even Saïx yelling at the top of his lungs before releasing Roxas' arm from her fierce grip. Neither of them seemed to be able to stop walking, both buzzing with an odd sort of adrenaline rush.

"What _was _that?" Naminé finally breathed, sounding shocked and just a little bit awed.

"Which part?" Roxas muttered dryly, "the part where Saïx started ripping on you for no good reason or the part where Hayner fucking Dincht showed up?"

"Seriously though," she continued, "when's the last time you even spoke to Hayner?"

"Dunno," Roxas shrugged. "Maybe last year? We had a few classes together in the spring. I swear, there's something in the water. Everyone's just completely losing their minds."

"Tell me about it," Naminé agreed. "Kairi's been all in a tizzy lately."

And boom. Opportunity. Not even a train-wreck asshole-incident and a side of ex-best-friend-showing-up-from-nowhere could derail Roxas from his cleverness. Damn he was good. "Sora too," he nodded. "You should have seen him Friday night. Must've taken all his crazy pills at once."

"Sora? Crazy?" Naminé scoffed. "I can't even picture it. Please, tell me more."

"Seriously," Roxas laughed. "He was like a scared bunny rabbit on crack."

"Friday night was that concert, right?"

Roxas nodded. Show time. He'd been on the fence about whether to play the subtle route or outright ask Naminé what she knew, but really, the whole mystery was going to unravel itself on its own at the rate this conversation was going. Subtlety it was. "Yeah, Melodious Nocturne. They were great, but Sora apparently knew the bassist or something, this kid Riku?"

Naminé stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at Roxas with a dumbstruck look on her face. "I _knew_that name sounded familiar. That's Riku and Axel's band!"

"You know them too?" Roxas pointedly ignored the way his entire freaking body seemed to perk up in renewed interest the second Naminé mentioned Axel's name. "Oh yeah, I guess you must have met Riku Friday night when he and Sora went to Marly's."

"Huh?" Naminé shook her head. "No, they couldn't have. This Friday? Kairi slept over my house Friday night, why would Sora and Riku go to Marluxia's?"

Game. Set. Match. Roxas could have done a victory dance right there in the middle of the crosswalk, because he was totally, totally winning this little detective mission. Sora. Was. LYING. Sora was totally, totally lying and Roxas had totally, totally caught him and right now somewhere in the universe there was a giant scoreboard lighting up that said ROXAS: 1 SORA: 0.

"Oh, my bad," Roxas shrugged nonchalantly. "Must've gotten it mixed up. Or maybe Demyx did. So how do you know them then?"

"Same way Sora does," Naminé said dismissively. "Riku's Kairi's best friend from back on Destiny Islands, he came here for school and they started hanging out again. Especially once she turned 18 and could go out with Riku's friends. I guess you met some of them too, Axel and Demyx."

"And Zexion, yeah," Roxas nodded. "They seem cool."

"They're really nice," Naminé agreed. "Funny. I could definitely see you getting along with them, you should come with next time we go down to the dorms. You'd especially like…"

She trailed off, and Roxas batted down the urge to reach over and shake her. Who? He'd like who? Was she going to talk about Axel now?

"…hang on, you're trying to get dirt from me, aren't you?"

Rats.

"What?" Roxas gasped, sounding shocked. "Whatnooo. Nooo, of course not. No. Okay. Well. Maybe."

Naminé laughed. "Geez, Rox, I don't know what it is about the Strife twins but you threw the rule book right out the window when it came to subtlety. Seriously, take a note from Cloud or something."

"Brooding and cranky does not equal subtlety," Roxas countered. "It just means he has a universal hatred for the entire world that exempts him from prolonged interaction with anyone."

"You want the goods or not?" Naminé shot back, smiling despite the way she rolled her eyes. "Which one, Demyx, Riku, or Axel? No one's really sure about Demyx so I can't tell you much about him. Then again, we're not really sure what's going on with Riku either, which I think is what has Kairi in such a snit lately. I think she's got a thing for him, but general theory seems to be he's seeing someone."

"Reaaally," Roxas drawled. Riku didn't seem to be in a hurry to run off and hook up with his girlfriend after the show Friday night, and Roxas definitely didn't notice him slouching off to any one fan girl in particular. No, he'd almost exclusively bee-lined towards Sora after the show.

"Aw, it wasn't Riku, was it?" Naminé whined, frowning. "You can't possibly have your first potential crush on a real-life guy on the same guy as Kairi. I definitely can't handle my two best friends lusting over the same guy, no way."

"What? No," Roxas shook his head. Riku? Sure, the guy was hot, he'd definitely give him that. All that long silver hair and shit. And yeah, maybe if he'd ever seen Riku walking down the street or something he would have done a little casual drooling. But really, put the silver-haired bassist right up next to that lead singer of theirs and…ugh, no comparison. "No, it wasn't Riku. I'm just surprised, he didn't strike me as having a girlfriend."

"Well no one knows for sure," Naminé shrugged. "Supposedly he's super secretive and sneaky lately, kicking Axel out of their room all the time or disappearing for random hours at a time. Whatever he's doing he's definitely hiding it, even and especially from Kairi, which is just driving her up the wall. But that's not important, is it?" Naminé shook her head, shoving one shoulder against her building's front door and letting them into the foyer.

"I…guess not?" Roxas guessed, holding one hand out for her bag as she dumped it into his waiting palm, digging about for her mailbox key. "What's the important part, then?"

"What's important," Naminé said, triumphantly pulling her key ring from the unknown depths of her bookbag, "is that you totally have a thing for one Axel Flynn."

And even as he opened his mouth to protest Roxas could feel the fierce red blush spreading across his cheeks and stretching all the way down the side of his neck. Naminé grinned victoriously as she pulled her bag back from his loose grip on it, shuffling the mail into one hand as she led the way towards the stairs up to the Majo's third floor apartment.

"Don't bother," she smirked. "Just tell me about him. He's hotter than asphalt in July, that much I'm already very, very aware of. He's also at least half into guys, so that's not a bad start either."

"This was supposed to be a recon mission," Roxas grumbled, throwing himself through the doorway as Naminé dropped her bag onto the floor. "Figuring out what the hell is going on with Sora, not 'lets grill Roxas.'"

"Well then," Naminé smiled sweetly, "shouldn't have mentioned that you made a bangin' new friend. Now, dear, details or I won't feed you."

Roxas fell heavily onto one of the stools against the breakfast bar, pouting at his friend's back as she started pulling cabinet doors open. Naminé made the best after school snacks in the entire world, a trick she'd learned from her own mother, and there was no better way to blackmail Roxas into telling her what she wanted to hear.

"I hate you," he sighed grumpily.

"I know," she grinned back. "Now. Spill."

* * *

><p>Roxas couldn't help but feel, retrospectively, that his conversation with Naminé was an epic failure. Really, she didn't tell him anything remotely interesting, offered absolutely no valuable piece of advice, and didn't have a single speck of dirt on Riku, Sora, or anyone else in that little tangle of weirdness. Useless, really.<p>

Still, her advice to find Axel again wasn't completely off the money. They'd considered asking Kairi for his number, sure that she'd be able to get in contact with her supposed best friend's roommate fairly easily, but somehow Roxas just felt like that was cheating. No, he wanted to find Axel, prove that this great big town wasn't so big after all, or maybe that theirs was more than just a simple chance meeting one night. Whether he wanted to prove it to himself or to the redhead remained to be determined, but in the mean time, he would look.

Except that looking wasn't turning out so great. It was hard, for one, to find the time to comb the streets of Twilight while working four days a week at McDuck's Ice Cream Parlor and fulfilling his parent's requirement of at least one completed college application, not just to HBU, per week. Harder still when he considered that he didn't really know where to start. It was a week before Sora, blinking blearily at him over a bowl of Lucky Charms after yet another night of "just going out with the guys from the team for a bit," and crawling back in Roxas' bedroom window at 4am, casually mentioned that he'd run into Riku a few days ago and the bassist had said something about Axel working at that music store with Demyx.

Ignoring the urge to pummel his brother into a pulp (okay, no, that wasn't true, he shoved Sora's face right into the brunet's cereal bowl), he tried his best to pretend that he wasn't immediately going to haul ass over to 'that music store.' No, first he was going to get dressed, and the possibility that Axel might be there had nothing to do with why he went through no less than six outfits before deciding this was just getting ridiculous.

Axel, of course, wasn't at Arpeggio's. Demyx was, and delighted to see Roxas and eager to direct him towards all different kinds of new CDs for his listening pleasure, but as happy as he was to talk to Demyx Roxas couldn't help but feeling a little let down. It was okay though, because now he knew he was welcome in Arpeggio's and he'd have no problem going back.

Except Axel wasn't there again. And again. And again. Roxas had almost completely lost hope of running into the singer, was convinced that Sora was wrong about Axel working in the music store, when he walked into Arpeggio's one afternoon to hear Demyx sigh loudly, pouting at Roxas.

"Ugh, you just missed him," Demyx whined, throwing his hands up in the air. "Oh he's going to be so disappointed, he's been hoping to run into you for days."

"Who?" Roxas asked casually, like his intestines weren't squirming apart in his torso.

"Axel," Demyx sighed. "I told him you stopped by the other day and he's been hoping you'd show up during one of his shifts. You just missed him, seriously, he left less than ten minutes ago. Oh he's going to be so pissed."

"Ah, that sucks," Roxas sighed, feigning nonchalance. "I haven't seen him since the show last month."

"He's working tomorrow," Demyx suggested slyly, propping his chin on his hand and smirking at the blond from behind his knuckles. "Saturday morning shift, 9:00 to 2:00."

"So am I," the younger boy pouted, pretense slipping in the face of his frustration. "9:00 to 4:00 at McDuck's. All the way on the other side of town."

"Rats," the musician frowned. "Serendipity it is then, I guess. Check out these playlists, they'll cheer you up. Look at this one, showed up the other day. I'm half tempted to buy it myself just because I wanted to see what it says."

Roxas did wind up buying the playlist, "A Conversation in Song Titles," but all it really did was make him think of Axel and how much he'd rather be conversing with the redhead than his iTunes.

It was with an exceptionally cranky pout on his face that he shuffled out the door the next morning and in the precise opposite direction of Arpeggio's, carrying his board in favor of dragging the soles of his extra-hi black hi-tops the whole way to McDuck's. Saturday morning shifts were the worst, mind-numbingly boring for the first few hours and then painfully busy for the rest, and it was somehow even worse knowing with absolute certainty that just a few dozen blocks across town Axel was slumped behind the counter of a hole-in-the-wall music store, purportedly disappointed that he couldn't see Roxas either.

The day crawled by but somehow, magically, Roxas' replacement showed up two hours early and insisted his shift started at 2:00, not 4:00. Roxas didn't argue. The second Huey hopped over onto the employee side of the register and pulled his apron over his head the blond was off, throwing himself out the front door so fast he barely had time to untangle his own ice-cream-stained apron from the waist of his candy-purple jeans. Somewhere along the course of the last five minutes he'd come to the executive conclusion that maybe, just maybe, if he hauled ass, and if Axel got tied up with a customer, and if Roxas got every light at every crosswalk, he'd make it across town before Axel left–

Roxas reeled backwards off the Something Very Solid he'd Hit Very Fast, skateboard flying out from under his feet. He landed ass-first on the sidewalk, barely managing to catch his runaway board under one foot, legs tangled with those of the person he'd apparently bowled over. The blond swore loudly, one hand scrubbing through his hair as he pushed himself upright.

"I knew you were both hoping to run into each other, I didn't think you meant literally."

Roxas paused, hand still frozen on the back of his head, narrowing his gaze on the pair of legs tangled with his own. He followed the black jeans up long, narrow thighs, past a faded green v-neck, and directly into the pleasantly surprised gaze of Axel Flynn himself. Demyx stood over them making a very poor attempt at hiding his laughter, teal eyes bouncing back and forth between the pair sprawled across the sidewalk.

"In my head it was more of a slow-motion run followed by a long embrace," Roxas groaned, kicking his skateboard back a few inches towards his free hand.

Axel laughed, pulling one leg back from where it had somehow wound up under Roxas' calf. "Next time?" he suggested, shaking his head as he gathered his lanky limbs back together. "I'm a great slow-motion runner." The redhead pushed himself to his feet before reaching down towards Roxas, extending a long-fingered hand toward the blond.

The younger boy laughed and wrapped his fingers gratefully around the pro-offered hand, taking careful note of the small black lines of ink he hadn't noticed before. The tattoo was small, barely bigger than a quarter; just a simple rough sketch of a roman numeral VIII nestled into the flat part of Axel's wrist.

"Thanks," he smiled, letting his fingers linger on the redhead's skin for as long as possible after releasing the taller teen's hand. "What are you guys doing down in this part of town?"

"Oh, Axel just wanted some ice cream," Demyx said innocently. Axel's cheeks burned hotly as he shot a glare at his friend, missing the look that flashed across Roxas' face. Demyx couldn't possibly have meant they were coming to see him…

"What Demyx meant to say," Axel recovered, "was that we're trying to hit up this thrift store down on 4th. They close pretty early during the week, so we pretty much booked it out of work to get down here."

"You need to leave yourself a solid block of time for thrifting," Demyx interjected, nodding sagely. "Especially when you're looking for something specific. You're never going to just walk into a thrift store and find what you're looking for on the first rack you check, you have to really take the time to comb through everything."

"What are you thrifting for?" Roxas asked. He'd never been thrifting, it had never particularly struck him as something he'd be interested in, but the way Demyx and Axel were practically bouncing at their heels made it seem kind of exciting.

"For now, just a leather jacket," the taller blond shrugged.

"I need a corset," Axel added. "And a pair of heels. And probably some costume jewelry."

"You…what?"

Laughter exploded from Axel's and Demyx' mouths as the redhead's words caught up with them, Axel burying his face in his hands while Demyx bent over double clutching his stomach as he shook with raucous guffaws. Roxas raised an eyebrow at the pair of them, glancing back and forth between the two bandmates as Demyx laughed progressively harder and Axel turned progressively redder.

"Oh my god," Axel choked out, swiping one hand down the length of his face as he attempted to gain his composure. "Oh man, that came out so, so wrong."

"So you're not shopping for women's lingerie, then?" Roxas asked tentatively, eyebrows raised warily. The question inspired a fresh round of giggles from the pair of them, Demyx all but sitting on the ground in defeat as he gestured for his taller friend to attempt an explanation.

"No, I am," Axel snickered, shaking his head. "But not because I'm an overwhelmingly flaming cross dresser with a kink. I swear."

"Oh god, Roxas, your face," Demyx cackled. "Fuck I wish I had a camera. Seriously, I promise I've never seen Axel in drag. Well. Wait. Actually."

"Stop, just stop," Roxas begged, shaking his head vigorously. "Explain properly, somebody, please, before I run away from the raving lunatics on the street."

"Demyx and I are costume shopping. For Halloween," Axel said quickly, making a valiant effort at schooling his face into a serious expression. Demyx, significantly less successful, received a few sharp elbows to the ribs every time he couldn't contain a snicker. "There's this one theater downtown that does the Rocky Horror Show every year for Halloween. They always do a midnight show on October 31, and that night there's always a Rocky Horror Costume Contest."

"You realize it's October 8, right?" Roxas reminded them. He loved Halloween just as much as the next person, sure, maybe even more when it gave him a good excuse to dress in the most outrageous outfit he could come up with for an entire night, but planning an entire month in advance was pushing it.

"Yeah well, between work and class Saturday's really the only day we can spend some good quality time shopping," Demyx explained, finally getting a hold on his composure. "So really it's only four days before Halloween. Technically."

"Besides," Axel sighed dramatically, "do you have any idea, Roxas, how hard it's going to be to find a pair of men's size 13 stripper heels for under $20?"

Roxas didn't even know how to approach that sentence, didn't even know where to start. He laughed tentatively, mostly unconsciously, mostly sure that the redhead was exaggerating his desperate need for a pair of heels. Axel, on the other hand, was barely cracking a smile for the earnest expression on his face.

"I have so many questions it's unreal," Roxas sighed.

Demyx grinned, rolling his eyes fondly in Axel's direction. "That tends to happen a lot around this one," he confided. "Mostly because he's an absolute nut job. Question #1?"

"Is he serious about the heels?"

"Of course I'm serious about the heels," Axel frowned, looking confused. "How could I possibly dress up as Frank without a classic pair of five-inch platform heels? That's like asking me if I'm serious about the corset."

"So you are shopping for women's lingerie?" Roxas could swear the conversation was going in circles but, somehow, it didn't bother him. It was almost funny, really, watching Axel stumble over an explanation only to wind up digging himself deeper into a pit of super weirdness. Weirdness, Roxas couldn't help but notice, that was far less creepy than it was adorable.

"You've never seen Rocky Horror, have you?" Demyx asked suddenly. Understanding lit Axel's face, almost instantly smoothing over the redhead's furrowed brow.

The younger boy shook his head. "No. I kind of always thought it was some campy horror movie, actually, and I don't really do scary. I'm starting to think I'm wrong, though…"

"You're right about the camp part, that's for sure," Axel laughed. "And it's definitely a bit terrifying. You've really never seen it though? Not even the movie?"

"What else is there?"

"Like, the most incredibly musical theater production in the history of the world," Demyx jumped in. "No exaggeration. The best."

"Debatable," Axel argued. "Totally debatable. It's definitely the only one of its kind though, that's for sure. I can't believe you've never seen it. You don't even know what it's about?"

"Apparently not," Roxas shrugged. "And I still have no idea why it involves you dressing in drag."

"Demyx," Axel hissed, hitting the palm of his hand repeatedly against his friend's shoulder. "Demyx, I just had the most brilliant idea. The most brilliant. For real." The redhead turned back to Roxas with a positively feral grin on his face, green eyes glinting at Roxas as though he'd suddenly turned into those coveted stripper heels.

"Roxy," Axel cooed, raising one eyebrow at the blond. "Roxy, Roxy. So named cause of the rocks in his head. What are you doing for Halloween?"

Roxas almost choked on the air he'd been attempting to inhale. Halloween was in a month. Was Axel actually going to invite him to spend Halloween with the redhead and his friends? What made the older boy so certain that they'd even still want to hang out with each other in a month, that this wasn't just a passing coincidence in that awkward moment when they almost could have been friends but maybe Roxas never texted or maybe Axel never called and…oh fuck it. Axel, the gorgeous, witty, amazing singer Roxas hadn't stopped thinking about for three weeks straight, was asking Roxas if he wanted to hang out with him.

"Come on, it's seriously unlike anything you've ever done before," Demyx pleaded. "It's so much fun. And if you do it once and it totally, totally sucks for you, I promise I'll personally hold Axel's arms behind his back so you can beat him up as much as you want."

"Do I have to dress in drag?" he asked warily, raising a pale eyebrow. Demyx bounced up and down on his toes, grin spreading wide over his face, while Axel all but clapped his hands together in glee.

"Nope. Not quite," the redhead promised, shaking his head. "In fact, your costume's easy, I can bang that shit out in like, an afternoon. What size shoe do you wear? And what size gym shorts?"

Roxas cocked his head to the side, bewilderment clear on his fair features.

"Go with it," Demyx nodded. "Trust me. You're better off letting Axel handle it."

"Size 10," Roxas admitted. "And I guess a small?"

"Does that mean you're in?" the older blond guessed. Roxas nodded and the two college students whooped victory cheers, high-fiving each other high over their heads.

"This is going to be so much fun, seriously, Roxas, you should probably just start getting excited now, it's going to be great," Demyx rambled. "Ugh, I want it to be Halloween right now. Best holiday of the year, ever, and it's going to be so fucking awesome this year."

"You're going to love it," Axel agreed. "Seriously. It's incredible. Especially you, oh man. Not to mention the guys. The prettiest bunch of boys you've ever seen Roxas, let me tell you. The prettiest. And they're going to love you, especially when I'm done with you. If one of us doesn't win that costume contest then the thing's rigged."

"You guys are loons," Roxas laughed, shaking his head fondly at the pair of overeager puppies suddenly standing on the sidewalk in front of him. He did, suddenly, feel irrationally excited for Halloween, but he didn't think it had as much to do with Rocky Horror as it did with getting to spend more time around them.

"Fact," Axel nodded.

"Loons," Demyx amended, "that seriously need to get moving. The store we're trying to hit up closes at 4:00."

"Boo," Axel whined. "Ruin my fun. I'd invite you to come with us, Rox, but now I kind of want you to be surprised by the costumes."

"Nah, you guys should go without me. I might get too scared to be seen with you in public if you start trying on corsets in the middle of the store," Roxas teased. "Besides, I love surprises."

"In that case," Demyx suggested casually, "you should at least give us your phone number. You know, just in case Axel has any more questions about your costume or something. My phone's dead though. Flamesilocks?"

"Go die, muppet-head," Axel snarked good-naturedly, reaching into his back pocket for his phone. He held it out to the younger boy, smiling. "How bout it, kid?"

Roxas very carefully, and very calmly, took the proffered phone from the redhead, sliding his own cell out of his front pocket and passing it over. He was absolutely not doing a victory dance in his head, absolutely not, and he certainly wasn't going to start cheering in the middle of the sidewalk. No, he was just going to program his number into Axel's phone. So the redhead could text him. Or something. About the plans they had. To hang out. In four weeks. But no, there was no victory dancing to be done in broad daylight.

"Don't lose that now," Axel warned, trading back and curling his fingers around the edge of his phone. "There are people who would pay you for those digits."

"How much?" Roxas teased. "Might be worth it."

"Watch it, you," Axel warned. "I'm not above incessant bothering as a form of punishment."

"Axel," Demyx whined.

"Go," Roxas laughed. "Those hooker heels aren't going to find themselves."

"Yessir," Axel grinned, taking a step back as Roxas kicked his skateboard back up into his hands.

"Bye Rox!" Demyx waved, already taking the first few steps away back in the direction Roxas had been coming from.

"See you soon?" Axel asked, backing up after Demyx without turning away from the younger boy.

Roxas grinned, curling his fingers just a little tighter around the phone that now, amazingly, had Axel's number in it. "Yeah. Definitely."

Roxas was decidedly not on cloud nine. No, he was not. He was not even much more than mildly pleased, could definitely not be described as "giddy," "tickled pink," or some other awful cliché like that. Nope. And sure, maybe he'd decided to tuck his board under his arm and walk home instead of riding, but that did not mean he was bouncing on his toes with every step. His Chucks were just springier than usual. Or the ground was squishier. Or something.

Fine. He was so high he was practically floating. This, he reasoned, must be what those super awesome moon shoes he'd always wanted as a kid felt like, bouncing across not-quite-solid ground like he was gliding. But really, it wasn't his fault. He got out of work two whole hours early, finally, finally ran into Axel, and somehow managed to walk away from the conversation with both a phone number and Halloween plans. With Axel. He had plans. With Axel. Plans.

His phone, still cradled lovingly in Roxas' palm, dinged the most beautiful noise the blond had ever heard. Had his phone always sounded so lovely? Had his screen ever looked as fabulous as it did with one new text from…Super Mega Foxy Awesome Hot glowing on the screen like that? He laughed as he dragged his thumb across the touch screen, shouldering open the front door of his apartment complex without tearing his eyes away from the screen.

_just making sure you haven't deleted my number yet. or sold it. _

Roxas grinned, taking the stairs two at a time up to his apartment. Both thumbs moved rapid-fire as he typed out, and then deleted, and then typed out again no less than three separate responses. He hated to admit it, never would out loud, but he probably needed Sora for this one.

"Yo," he yelled, swinging the apartment door open. "Anyone home? Sora?" He dropped his board on the floor and toed off his Chucks, eyes still glued to his most recent attempt at responding to Axel.

"So?" Roxas called again, rounding the corner into the living room and finally pulling his gaze away from his phone. "You home–"

It was the hoody that caught his attention. Bright yellow and splayed open across the couch cushions like the cotton was about to be dissected, and all Roxas could think was that he didn't own a yellow sweatshirt and Sora wouldn't know American Apparel if it bit him in the ass.

That, the dumbfound blond realized slowly, was probably because it belonged to Riku. Riku, who, much like his sweatshirt, was currently sprawled bodily across the Strife's couch. Riku, who, unlike his sweatshirt, had one hand curled around Sora's hip and the other braced against his thigh. No. Sora's thigh. Because Sora: Roxas' blitzball-playing, girl-liking, straight-as-fuck twin brother, frozen as he was with his blue eyes locked on Roxas', was well and properly straddling Riku's lap.

None of them moved. Not to break eye contact, not to scramble to make it look like something else, not even for Sora to move his hand out from Riku's pants. Roxas wasn't even quite sure anyone breathed, truthfully. They just…stared. Sora at Roxas, Roxas at Sora and Riku, Riku at Sora.

It was Riku who finally broke the silence, slicing through the tension-thick air with a subtle clearing of his throat. The blond twin jumped slightly, just enough to snap his gaze away from Sora and clear his head for a second. Sora jerked slightly, snatching his hand away from Riku and pulling back as far as the fingers still curled around his hip and thigh would let him.

Really, he should have seen something like this coming.

"Well," Roxas finally said, sighing lightly. "That pretty much answers that question."

* * *

><p><strong>"A Conversation in Song Titles" will be available soon if you want it. So is, though I didn't advertise it last time around, the set list for Melodious Nocturne's September show from last chapter.<strong>

**PS. Roxas missed both of Axel's pop culture references this time around…did you catch them?**


	4. Fall

I don't even know if I should bother trying to explain myself or just hang my head in shame and present chapter 4 because really, I don't deserve the **amazing **displays of love and devotion from you guys and oh man, it's just unreal and ugh the laundry list of excuses I wish I could give you…

Lets be real, I like the sound of my own voice. And I like the idea of you guys all reading this to yourselves thinking "none of us know what your voice sounds like, jackass." (love me)

FORGIVE ME GOD FORGIVE ME I TRIED SO HARD SO SO SO SO SO HARD TO GET THIS DONE SOONER I SWEAR TO GOD I DID I LITERALLY WORKED ON IT EVERY DAY. EVERY. STINKING. DAY. IT'S JUST SO HARD WHEN YOU WORK 70 HOURS A WEEK AND ALL YOU WANT TO DO ALL DAY IS WRITE AND THEN WHEN YOU FINALLY GET HOME YOU'RE SO TIRED YOU CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT THE COMPUTER SCREEN STRAIGHT. UGH.

And the worst part is that it's not even good. I mean. It's alright. But nothing. Happens. Here's a summary: Roxas and Sora talk. And then Sora and Riku talk. And then Sora and Roxas talk. And then Roxas and Sora talk. And then you all hate this chapter started getting so LONG and so ridiculous that I had to cut it in half, and this was the logical place to cut it, but then it went from really FUN and AWESOME to **BORING**. That being said…chapter 5 is already well underway, so hey, MAYBE IT WON'T TAKE ME TWO MONTHS AGAIN.

If you're still reading this…you're literally the most awesome on the planet. Especially since you guys…holy shit, you guys. Over 100 reviews in just three chapters? I cried. I should be on my knees in front of every single one of you worshipping the ground you walk on and begging your forgiveness and promising chapters and sonnets and drabbles and epic one-shots, and instead I'm offering you 18 pages of "at least I hope you guys will find Angsty!Sora and SassyGayFriend!Roxas funny."

There are no songs. And there are no glaringly obvious references minus a readily acknowledged one. If you see it let me know. And if you count on me for your music fix and I'm not offering it this time around, check out the following two songs:

"The Last Thing" by Transmit Now  
>"The Truth Is, You Should Lie With Me" by Say Anything<p>

They'll come in handy later.

And uh…I love you? Every single one of you?

(oh, and if you didn't IMMEDIATELY catch the Sassy Gay Friend you need to hit up YouTube right now. Right. Now. This chapter can wait.)

**Things I Own**: uh…an iPhone? A hoody that belongs to someone who is a. male and b. not my boyfriend? An electric blue and black and white flannel shirt that is actually the exact one I picture Roxas wearing sorry bout it is that weird?

**Things I Don't Own**: Any of this. It's all Square Enix and Disney. I don't even own my soul, you guys do. Or at least, you would if my boss hadn't consumed it first. You guys can have my heart?

WAIT ACTUALLY IMPORTANT THINGS:

Starting in this chapter, and continuing throughout the story, we are gradually going to pick up new narrators (there will be four total). Roxas, of course, continues to be the "main" narrator, but as he learns about the various different other "relationships" in his seemingly "narrow" world of heterosexuality (hahaha you are so WRONG roxas) he opens the opportunity for new narrators to speak. AKA Sora gets to have a POV sometimes now. and as we learn about the two others they'll get their chance too. In the end, though, it all comes back to Roxas.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 <strong>"Fall" by Something Corporate

* * *

><p><em>Sora's POV<em>

* * *

><p>Sora was quite certain that he'd lost the ability to breathe. He'd lost the ability to move at all, really, and that apparently included being physically incapable of inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide from his lungs.<p>

Roxas was staring at him, staring at _them_, and as much as he was painfully aware of Riku's heavy aquamarine gaze urging him to look down, Sora somehow couldn't manage to get the neurons between his brain and his neck muscles to fire properly. Roxas was staring at them, and that meant Roxas _knew_and oh god. Oh. God.

There was a soft sound coming from beneath him, but more than hearing the gentle cough Sora felt it, the jerky rise and fall of Riku's abdomen beneath his own hand, and holy shit, Roxas was staring at them and his _hand_ was in Riku's fucking _pants_. Roxas blinked and shook his head and the brunet snatched his hand away from the older boy's skin, as though he hoped that maybe if Roxas looked back now the blond would think he must have imagined seeing his brother's hand down another guy's boxers. Roxas tilted his head to the side, still not quite looking at them, and Sora made a solid effort at climbing completely off of Riku's legs. The silver-haired teen was having none of it, both hands still curled in vice-like grips around Sora's hip and thigh.

"Well," Roxas sighed, and Sora couldn't bear to look at him, to glance up and see the flurry of emotions that must be running over Roxas' face, confusion and anger and disgust and betrayal, he was sure. "That pretty much answers that question."

Huh?

Sora took a slow, shuddering breath, oxygen-deprived lungs desperately grateful for the sudden rush of air. Roxas was, obviously, still suffering from the shock of walking in on his supposedly straight twin brother on top of another boy. Obviously. There was no other possible explanation for the way Roxas almost sounded like he was _laughing_.

"I'm just gonna…"

Sora's gaze flickered sideways towards his twin, watching the way Roxas gestured vaguely towards the direction of their bedroom with his cell phone. The brunet nodded slightly at a stain on the carpet two feet short of Roxas' sock-clad feet, feeling Riku's fingers tensing on his thigh.

"Yeah, that's probably…yeah, I'll be in…over there. Calm him down or something, would you, Riku?" Roxas finished lamely, hands falling limply down at his sides. He hustled off before the college student could even respond, all but bolting from the room and slamming the door behind him.

Sora found himself back in that place again, the one where he couldn't seem to muster up the ability to do something as simple as draw a breath or twitch his fingers. He stared blankly at the spot Roxas had so recently vacated, the image of his brother's shocked face burned so vividly into his mind's eye that it was like the blond never left at all.

"Sora," Riku murmured softly. The hand on his hip slid up until it was resting against exposed skin, thumb lightly stroking the thin flesh over Sora's protruding hip bone. "Sora, hey. Snap out of it."

The brunet shook his head numbly, leaning heavily on the one arm he had propped up against the back of his couch. He dropped his free hand back down onto Riku's bare stomach, fingertips resting lightly atop the smooth, pale skin. It was nice to have the solid feel of Riku's body under him, Riku's hands holding onto him, something real and tangible anchoring him from disappearing entirely in the land of desperate panic attacks.

"Hey," the musician said again. The muscles in his stomach clenched together under Sora's fingers as Riku slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, carefully leaning back far enough to avoid startling the brunet. He lifted his hand from Sora's thigh and wrapped it instead around the younger boy's neck, fingers pushing up to twist into strands of chocolate brown hair.

Sora couldn't help but slump forward slightly, tension in his neck fading just a smidge as Riku's hand carefully cradled the back of his head. This was…unfathomable. Unbelievable. Worse than Sora ever could have possibly imagined. Roxas _knew_. Roxas knew, and he didn't even find out in a nice, completely staged and well-planned and thought-out conversation/explanation from his twin; no, Roxas had to go and walk right on in on them _in flagrante delicto _on the family's couch.

Roxas was…Sora couldn't even begin to think of what the right word for how Roxas must be reacting could possibly be. Roxas was probably furious at him, that was for sure. Furious, definitely, and probably feeling betrayed too, because here was his 'straight' twin brother who had always let Roxas take the heat from school bullies when it was now clear as day that Roxas was far from the only Strife to ever take an interest in another man. Roxas knew that now, knew that his twin brother, his supposed best friend, had sat in silence and let the blond twin suffer the wrath of a hundred homophobes and never once did Sora suggest that Roxas might not be so alone in this.

Roxas was never going to speak to him again, and if he did, it was only going to be to inform Sora of his imminent death. And Sora completely deserved it.

"Seriously, Sora. Look at me."

He did, finally, turning an utterly despondent expression on the older boy. Riku tutted like a shameless mother hen, pulling himself in a little bit closer towards the brunet.

"It's going to be okay," Riku promised. Sora, being neither thirteen nor a girl, restrained himself forcibly from stamping his foot and shaking his head empathetically. No, this was definitely not going to be okay.

"It is," the college student insisted. "I mean, Roxas seemed pretty okay with it. A little surprised, sure, but okay."

Sora didn't answer. He didn't know how, how to possibly express in words or by any other physical manifestation the way things were so, so epically _not _going to be okay. He didn't deserve them to be, that was for sure, and he definitely didn't deserve the sweet way Riku was still rubbing a soothing thumb over his hip bone.

"Do you want me to leave?" the silver-haired teen asked quietly.

The brunet shook his head frantically. If Riku left he'd be all alone with Roxas, and then he would have absolutely no excuse not to go talk to his brother, and Roxas was going to murder him in cold blood. Sora wouldn't even stop him, wouldn't complain, because he was the worst brother in the world and he so totally deserved every ounce of Roxas' impending wrath. He just wanted to prolong it. For as long as possible. Preferably forever.

"I probably should," Riku disagreed. "You and Roxas really need to talk."

"He's going to kill me," Sora whimpered, mustering the most effeminate, pathetic whine he possibly could have managed.

Riku cracked a small smile, teal eyes squinting with amusement. "No he's not," he insisted. "Roxas is not going to kill you. He loves you, and he'll understand."

Sora slumped forward, resting his forehead against the older teen's. Later, when the gut-wrenching, soul-destroying terror and guilt had subsided into something a little more manageable, this moment would actually be kind of nice. It wasn't bad, was better than Sora was willing to admit, really, letting go of the tension and trusting Riku to support his weight. They didn't have many moments like this; quiet, gentle affection weighing out over carnal desire. Sora and Riku had inadvertently developed a habit of going at it like bunnies in heat, sure, but they didn't spare too much time for cuddling. Cuddling was for couples.

After several minutes of sitting there, eyes closed, reveling in the feel of Riku's fingers slowly stroking through the hair at the nape of his neck, Sora let out a conciliatory sigh. "You're right," he whispered. "You should go. I have to talk to Roxas."

Riku nodded, pulling his head back and leaning up to place a kiss to the still-red skin where their heads had been pressed together. The college student slid his hand around to the front of Sora's neck, stroking over the brunet's collarbone once before falling away.

Sora, reluctantly, climbed to his feet. Riku followed slowly, carefully pulling at his disheveled clothing and gathering his wallet, keys, and phone from the coffee table. The younger athlete watched wordlessly as he shoved his belongings into various pockets before climbing over the coffee table to stand next to Sora.

"C'mere," Riku muttered, reaching up to cradle Sora's face in between his hands. The brunet closed his eyes as he felt the unusually soft press of lips against his own, a surprisingly chaste kiss, just barely lingering before Riku stepped back. "Text me and let me know how it goes, yeah?"

Sora could only nod.

Riku let himself out.

The living room needed to been cleaned. So did the kitchen, and the bathroom. Maybe Mrs. Downstairs-and-across-the-hall had some odd jobs for him to do. Or, you know, he should really get to the library and get started on that English paper due next next Thursday. That was definitely something he should do. He'd just grab his backpack and his hoody off the couch and…hang on…

Sora picked his away across the (spotless, save one pillow on the floor) living room and plucked the bright yellow zip-up off the dark navy cushions. A lone strand of nearly translucent hair hung delicately off one shoulder, all but invisible even under Sora's careful inspection of the sweatshirt.

It was, obviously, Riku's. Lemon yellow and soft as fuck, the bassist had at least four of these in different colors that he wore almost religiously…it was hard to fathom him forgetting it here.

It was stupid and girly and supposedly implied all kinds of things that Sora shouldn't be thinking about as he slipped both arms into the sleeves and pulled the thing on. It was at least a size too big on him, the cuffs of the sleeves fitting loosely over his palms, shoulders sagging a little too much over his arms. It also smelled like Riku, like his endearingly girly shampoo and the endearingly awkward way it combined with his stereotypically musky-male smell. Sora could see, he supposed, the hype of wearing your boyfriend's sweatshirt.

Except that Riku wasn't his boyfriend.

"You're wearing his hoody."

Sora glanced up from where his fingers had been playing with the zipper. His brother stood leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, an unreadable expression on his pale face.

"He forgot it here," the brunet mumbled. It was stupid. He should take it off.

Roxas snorted, shaking his head. "He was still wearing it last I saw," he said knowingly, tapping one finger to the side of his nose. "Trust me, he might have left it here, but he didn't forget it."

"We're not dating." Sora said it defensively, argumentatively, like it meant something.

Roxas just looked at him.

"Do you want to be?"

"I – why aren't you freaking out?"

Roxas shot him his signature cock-sure smirk, the most definitive way to tell the twins apart without even looking at their hair. "Don't get me wrong," he corrected his twin, "I'm totally freaking out. But no more than I would be if I had walked in on you and Kairi, if that's what you're asking."

Sora dropped bodily onto the couch like his puppeteer had just cut his strings, falling into a heap of brown hair, mope-y teenage boy, and oversized yellow hoody of questionable intent. Roxas, he noted absently, steered clear of the couch and shot for the loveseat he and Riku hadn't been making out on. Understandable.

"Why not?" Sora challenged.

"Do you want me to be?" Roxas shrugged. "I don't know, how hypocritical would I be if I freaked?"

Sora shook his head, stuffing his hand into the zip-up's pockets, hugging the yellow poly-cotton blend tightly around his torso.

"But I didn't…I mean, you should be…I never…" Sora trailed off helplessly, glancing desperately at his brother. If there was ever a time for twin-ESP, it was now, because Sora still couldn't even begin to find the words to try to explain.

Roxas, bless every single blond hair on his beautiful head, apparently didn't need him to. "How long has this been going on?" he asked calmly, shifting the subject just enough for Sora to get his bearings. Facts. He could deal with facts.

"We met at a party in June," Sora exhaled slowly through his nose, pulling his feet up onto the couch and his knees to his chest in a further attempt to fold completely in on himself. "He stayed for the summer session at Twilight Tech, but most of his friends didn't, so he and Kairi hung out a lot and sometimes Kairi brought me along. The first time was this open party at some kid's house up by the campus. Kairi was talking to this guy on the swim team and kind of left me and Riku to fend for ourselves and, well…I mean, you've seen him."

Roxas' laughter was more like a silent huff of air, as though even his involuntary reactions didn't want to interrupt Sora more than was strictly necessary. He was grateful for that; he wasn't sure he'd be able to get through his first ever retelling of it without panicking unless he just spit it all out at once.

"It was kind of…I mean, obviously not love at first sight, but you know what I mean. Lust at first sight, I guess. Like I just took one look at him and said 'I have to have that.' And I did."

Sora smiled in spite of himself, one corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. Riku had told him, several hours after that initial meeting, sometime between tugging off Sora's shirt and licking his way down to the brunet's pants, that the initial reaction had been mutual.

"And it wasn't really a big deal, because it was a one time thing and we were both super drunk and we kind of just laughed it off in the morning, just another thing to add to the list of stupid shit we'd done while wasted. Except then two weeks later Kairi invited me along to another party and it happened again. And then a week later she invited him to one of our parties at Tidus's house, and we had to be really fucking sneaky about it and even then that didn't really stop us. And then suddenly it wasn't a one time thing but…"

"All those times, all summer, that you'd sneak out after dinner and climb back in at 4:00 AM," Roxas guessed.

Sora nodded. "He must have gotten my phone one night when I wasn't paying attention, because all of a sudden I got a text one night and his number was already programmed into my phone. He said he was bored and didn't feel like watching a movie all alone, but I'm pretty sure we didn't get much further than the opening credits. And since then it just…never really stopped."

"So you're…friends with benefits?"

Riku had said Roxas would understand, and maybe that was true, but how was it really, truly possible when Sora himself didn't even understand? Maybe Roxas understood that Sora hadn't quite told him the truth about what he was doing all summer, and maybe Roxas would even understand why Sora didn't tell him right away, but Roxas would never really be able to _understand_, because Sora would never be able to explain it.

He snorted derisively. "I'm not actually sure we even qualify as friends. I think the term you're looking for is fuck buddies."

Roxas wrinkled his nose in distaste, frowning at his twin. Sora shrugged. Truth is ugly sometimes, sorry about it. That, at least, was what he told himself when he (frequently, more so than should have been strictly necessary) reminded himself of that fact.

"Fine then. Quote-unquote 'fuck buddies,'" Roxas sighed, making proper air quotes around the term. "Since June."

Sora nodded.

"And before that roughly how often did you find yourself getting all hot and bothered over another guy?" the blond asked.

"Uh…I don't really…I mean, if I did, I never really noticed it. I mean, I knew that I never really got as worked up about girls as some of my friends did, but I figured I just hadn't met any I was really into."

"So Riku, three months ago, was the first guy to make you doubt your otherwise unchallenged sexuality?" Roxas clarified. Sora nodded again. "Right, so you want me to be mad at you for not immediately telling me something that takes most people years to come to terms with?"

Sora glanced up from the loose thread on the knee of his jeans he had been fixedly staring at throughout the better part of his story. When the fuck had his brother gone and grown up into some super-logical, reasonable human being? "When you put it that way I sound stupid," the brunet grumbled, pouting.

"What, because you normally sound so intelligent?" Roxas teased. "Really though, So, stop freaking out. I can see it on your face, stop it. I'm not mad. In fact, I'm sorry I walked in on you guys, you deserved to be able to tell me on your own."

The brunet didn't say anything. He just sat there, blinking uncomprehendingly at his twin. This was so far above and beyond anything he had possibly expected that he wasn't quite sure it was real. Part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Roxas to realize that Sora had been an unimaginable bastard, lying to him for the last three months, and that he deserved to have his ass kicked royally.

Roxas threw a pillow at him, snapping him out of his daze and laughing. "Are we done being stupid now? Cause I'm starting to feel like a bunch of whiny girls talking about our feelings and shit, and as much as you need a sassy gay friend, I don't know that I'm up to the challenge."

Sora hurled the pillow back, nailing Roxas square in the head. "Yeah, I guess."

"Good. So…artful dodging, but back to the important question…why aren't you dating?"

Sora groaned, burying his face in his knees. He should have known, really, that the second Roxas found out he was going to be all over him like white on rice, forcibly dragging all the damn dirt out of Sora no matter how long it took. His twin was a sucker for good drama and a closet romantic, nothing got him going like a dramatic love story.

"I don't know," the brunet whined, dropping his head back against the couch cushion and glaring at the ceiling.

"Do you want to?"

Sora shrugged one shoulder, pouting. "Not really. No. No? I don't know."

"Oh, yes, of course," Roxas agreed sarcastically. "I see."

"Shut up," Sora griped. "I thought we were being too girly for you."

"Your emo-ness is angsting up the place, I'll shelve my crippled masculinity for a little while longer," Roxas shot back. "Continue."

"With what?" Sora shrugged at the ceiling again. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it. That's it. We have a good thing going, why fuck it all up with feelings and complicated girl shit? Besides, it doesn't matter, even if I was interested, he's not."

"What makes you say that?"

Sora dragged his glare off the ceiling, lifting his head back up off the couch to turn and look at his brother.

"He's never…I mean…he texts me as a preface to a booty call. And we talk just enough for it to be socially acceptable for us to start screwing around. And, well, I don't know, in three months he's never once said anything that might imply he wanted something more. "The athlete burrowed slightly into the yellow hoody, assaulting his brain with the familiar smell of Riku's Aussie shampoo.

"He left you that," Roxas argued, nodding pointedly at the yellow zip-up wrapped tightly around Sora's torso. "He very graciously bowed out so that you and I could talk, even though it was obvious he didn't want to leave you alone and you didn't want him to go, so he left his sweatshirt behind as a subtle offer of comfort. Which, by the way, you have to admit is totally working…every time you start to freak out again you climb a little further into that thing and it calms you down."

"A. you're a creep, you totally fucking eavesdropped. B. I don't understand the way your brain works," Sora accused. He didn't want to even begin to think about Riku leaving him the sweatshirt intentionally; that was opening a whole new can of worms that he had no interest in disturbing right now.

"My only friend is a girl," Roxas explained dryly. "And I'm telling you, it wasn't an accident."

"And I'm telling you, you're nuts," Sora shot back.

Roxas threw him a cheeky grin in response. Neither twin said anything, letting the room fall into an easy silence for a few minutes. Sora dropped his head back onto the couch again, pointedly not thinking about how soft the interior of the hood was against his ear. He lolled his head to the side (heaven against his cheek, ugh), glancing towards his brother on the other side of the room. Roxas was bent almost double, curled over his phone as his thumbs hammered out a text rapid-fire.

"What did you mean, 'that answers that question?'" Sora asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Roxas snorted, not looking up from his phone. "I knew something was going on with you. You weren't exactly subtle about your epic freak out at the Melodious Nocturne show…it wasn't hard to figure Riku had something to do with…" he trailed off, a massive, appallingly out of character grin spreading across his face as his phone lit up in his lap. He all but dove for it, laughing breathlessly at whatever he saw on the screen.

"Who are you –" Sora sat up suddenly, jabbing an accusatory finger at Roxas. "You got Axel's number!"

"Ran into him and Demyx after work today," Roxas said smugly. Stupid little brat was proud of the fact that he was cheesing it up like a lovestruck little girl. "They invited me to go see Rocky Horror with them on Halloween."

"Oh my god, Roxas, it's like they actually like you or something," Sora teased. They had fully reached the limits of their girly life chat quota for the day, so Sora couldn't tell his twin that he really was prouder than a momma bear that his baby brother (two hours younger, it totally counted) actually seemed to be making friends with someone other than Naminé. "Really, I'm so proud," he gushed dramatically. "My little boy, all grown up and off to have a play date with the big kids."

"I hate you," Roxas grumbled. It was hard to take the blond seriously with that ridiculous smile still plastered on his face.

"Yeah, yeah," Sora sighed. "Whatever. So…tell me about it, stud."

* * *

><p>Sora had made himself two promises in the aftermath of his conversation with Roxas:<p>

1. It didn't matter that his brother knew, because he and Riku were doing was meaningless and casual and wasn't a Big Deal and just because the cat was out of the bag didn't mean things would change.  
>2. He would absolutely be returning Riku's sweatshirt at the next possible opportunity.<p>

Except that Sora totally forgot to give it back to him when Riku swung by a few nights later (and if Riku noticed the yellow cuff poking out from underneath the very pillow he'd had Sora pinned to, well, he hadn't said anything). And the time after that was one of those rare occurrences when they actually hung out with other people for the entire night without trying to sneak off with each other, and Sora was _not_about to explain to Kairi or, even worse, Demyx, why he had Riku's hoody. The third time was technically a totally chance run-in, and by the fourth…

(Fine, dammit, the thing was the most magical, magnificent piece of material ever, absolutely made of delicious, and Sora's new favorite slice of heaven.)

And, of course, everything changed.

* * *

><p><em>so, how'd it go?<em>

alarmingly well. I'm convinced he's still in shock and will come to his senses eventually

_or maybe roxas is actually a reasonably rational human being?_

roxas? he's a strife…we don't do "reasonably rational"

_I'm starting to realize that_

are you calling me irrational?

_if all strifes "don't do reasonably rational," and sora is a strife, then it follows that sora strife…_

I double dog dare you to finish that sentence

_…is sexy?  
>…is a fuck good kisser?<br>…does nothing but Awesome?_

smooth save, princess

_my suave charm and cool wit are what keep you around_

I thought it was your touching humility

_humility is for ugly boys_

then I would expect you to be a little more humble

_ooooo burn. oh, my aching heart. how shall I ever recover?_

you're insufferable.

_you like it_

maybe a little.

* * *

><p>Maybe not necessarily in a life-altering way. Not even in a super noticeable way, at first. His phone started buzzing a little more often. And not just at night. Sometimes the conversations were still blatant booty calls (in a world where "sometimes" meant two-and-a-half times in one month, which, really, was kind of a new low for them, especially since the "half" had been an appalling display of Sora inviting Riku over to "hang out" and Riku actually just coming over and hanging out.). Those were, mostly, normal.<p>

But then they started turning into _conversations_, and not just hey hi how are you trite drivel, but conversations like you have with friends. Good friends. The kind you can look up at after sitting in silence for two hours and say 'who decided to name a baked pan of deliciousness after an impossible number? Did they foresee a future of enterprising young asshole students bullying their math teachers into letting them bring pies to school on March 14?'

All of a sudden, they were _texting_. Texts in the morning when Sora was already into third period and the college student was just dragging himself out of bed for his "early morning class," (_wake up, you lazy asshole, you have class in 20 minutes_). Texts when Sora was kicking around after school killing that awkward half an hour between the last bell and blitzball practice, (_has anyone ever tried to have sex in one of those regulation pools?_). Texts when Riku was sitting in a rehearsal and Axel was too busy waxing poetically about Roxas (gag) to do anything remotely productive like, say, sing, (_do you know, roxas said the FUNNIEST thing today. _tell him roxas had a sex dream about getting it on with captain barbossa's beard).

Suddenly they were a bunch of freaking girls, or even worse, Roxas and Axel (okay, maybe not quite that bad), phones always within arm's reach because you never quiet knew when the next text would come through.

This would be totally cool if it just meant they were becoming friends. Sora loved friends. Friends were great. And maybe if they were friends he would feel a little better about what he and Riku were doing. It would make a little more sense, maybe, if they were friends. For the texting, too, because Kairi totally texted Sora almost as much as Riku did and he had no problem answering her all the time. It just…didn't quite feel the same.

* * *

><p><em>sup kid<em>

who you callin kid

_who do you think, runt?_

come say that to my face brow, this runt'll show you exactly how hard he can kick your prissy ass

_big bad bball star, huh? gonna go all jock on me?_

you would love it if I "went all jock on you." you wouldn't be able to keep it in your pants.

_why would I even be wearing pants?_

I figured you'd rather not walk all the way here with your shit hanging out, but I guess that's up to you

_that almost sounds like a challenge, sora…_

you show up here not wearing pants and I will maim you, and not in a good way

_what's the matter sweetheart, don't like sharing?_

* * *

><p>And hadn't that been just a bitch of a problem, really, when he realized the answer to that question was <em>yes<em>, because there was the life-altering part. Not the accommodating to fit eight hours of texting into his schedule. Not the newfound conversationalist uncovered in the guy who had previously only been good for moans. These were trivial details that he could totally work with if only they weren't accompanied by this sudden onslaught of possessiveness and mindless flirting, jealousy, the occasional moments of unabashed awareness that he could actually _like_ this kid. Really like him. Not just his body or his lips or his hands or his tongue, but the way Sora was the first person Riku talked to every morning, and Riku was the last person Sora talked to every night. The way Riku was sometimes a goofball and sometimes a jerk but never seemed to mind that Sora was always a goober. The way that Sora _totally needed to derail this train now before it started gathering some steam_. This one was just best left alone, very alone. Locked up tight in a box and tucked in the back of his brain, and give Riku his hoody back because This Was Getting Nipped in the Bud and Fast.

Which left Sora eyeing his cell phone warily from where he lay eye level with the demonic thing. The alert tone went off a second time, a reminder of the new text awaiting his attention, but he made no move to touch it, leaving his arms where they were pinned under his stomach.

"ROXAS," he bellowed, pressing his chin into the pillow beneath him.

"WHAT?" the blond hollered back, the irritation in his tone muffled by the several layers of drywall separating the boys' bedroom from the living room.

"CAN YOU COME HERE?" He kept one eye carefully trained on his cell, like he was just waiting for it to suddenly sprout little mechanical legs and craw away, or even worse, crawl closer (he should probably stop watching movies. Like now.)

"WHY?"

"I NEED YOUUU," Sora whined. He thumped his face back down against the pillow, burying his nose into the cerulean sheets. Come on, Roxas, stop being a douche.

"WHY?"

"Roxas, go see what your brother wants!" Saving grace referee-style from the kitchen, thank you Mom. Sora smirked against the cotton pillowcase, careful not to let the thing dip enough that his phone would slide closer to him. Score one for not having to move.

Roxas stomped into the bedroom, hip-checking the door open and glowering at the twin more or less planking on his bed. "What the hell do you want?" he sighed.

"Riku texted me," Sora mumbled.

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Riku texts you every day, asshat, this is hardly news."

"He asked me what I'm doing tonight."

"So, he's scheduling his booty calls a few hours in advance. I mean, it's a bit overambitious, sure, but hardly cause for attempting to smother yourself with a pillow." Roxas threw himself over Sora on the bed, landing with his legs across Sora's ass and his fingers firmly caged over the brunet's phone.

"Hey!" Sora protested, grabbing for it. Roxas leaned away triumphantly, keying in his brother's password and scrolling through his text conversations.

"Hey, what's up, whatcha up to, mad bored, just got out of class…wow, Sora, your conversations are just enthralling. I'm getting hard just reading them," the blond teased. "Oooh wait, here's a good one. 'Hey Ri – home alone until 10, super bored. What are you up to?' Oooooooh Sora, you're so bad!" he squealed mockingly.

"I wish you had never been born," Sora growled. "Dad's sperm should have given up after the first one made it."

"I am confused about one thing though," Roxas continued as though he hadn't heard a thing. "If he was here Tuesday night, why are you still wearing that?"

Sora glanced guiltily at the banana yellow sweatshirt cuffs hanging over his hands. "I…forgot to give it back to him? Stop changing the subject."

Roxas snickered. "Fine, lets see this convo. 'Hey,' 'hey,' 'I'm super lame, blah blah blah,' oh, okay. 'Just left a four hour rehearsal, hate when Axel gets like this before a show,' 'sounds rough. You guys have a show coming up?' 'yup. What are you doing in…oh…an hour?'" Roxas glanced up, pinning Sora down with the strongest 'you're an idiot' glare he could muster.

"What?" Sora cringed, shrinking away from the death rays.

"Seriously, this is what you're all worked up over?" Roxas all but threw the phone at his twin's head, rolling his eyes dramatically. "They're playing at Fall Fest tonight, down at the Sandlot. He's probably just going to tell you you should come check it out. Which, for the record, you would have done anyway, because I was coming in here in ten minutes to force you to get dressed."

Sora blinked, frowning heavily at Roxas. "Really? That's it?"

"Probably," Roxas snorted. "Why don't you text him back and find out, loser?" the blond crossed his arm over his chest and settled a little further into the bed, clearly waiting for his still-stalling brother.

Sora heaved an impressively exasperated sigh, snatching the phone off the bed and keying in his passcode. He refused to put much thought into it (liar), thumbs flying across the screen as he typed out _apparently hitting up fall fest for nocturne's show with roxas _before dropping the phone back down on the bed like it had bitten him.

"You're ridiculous," Roxas sighed. "But yeah, we're going to Fall Fest, their set's from 8:00 to 9:00. Then I'm going back to Twilight Tech with Axel and Demyx and whoever else for some Rocky Horror prep, no idea what you're doing."

Sora nodded, only half-listening as he kept both eyes on the dreaded iPhone. Even then, he jumped when the text alert sounded, lunging for it only to find Roxas' hand once again caged over the cell, scooping it up before Sora could even lay a finger on it.

"Give it," he whined. "I'm changing my password so you can't keep stealing my phone."

Roxas ignored him. They both knew it was an empty threat anyway. "Okay, good," he read. "After the show we can take advantage of my roommate's freaky obsession with dressing up in women's lingerie for some late-night smexy-smex in my dorm."

"Shut up, it does not say that," Sora groaned, twisting around and stretching for his phone. "Riku would never say smexy-smex."

"I'm deeply concerned that that was the only giveaway," Roxas said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He handed his twin the phone with a small smirk, vaulting himself off the bed as Sora immediately zeroed in on the screen to check it for real. Predictably, it said nothing remotely sexual, just a perfectly reasonable _lol good, I was going to say you and rox should come_.

"You look disappointed," Roxas accused. Sora glanced up – Roxas had crossed the room to their shared closet, his back to his twin as he rifled through a handful of t-shirts. "Expecting smexy time?"

"Move on from the smex," Sora protested. "I wasn't expecting anything."

"Liar," Roxas sang.

"I'm not a witch, I'm your wife," Sora shot back automatically, flipping his phone around in his hand. He should probably answer Riku, but he was starting to not know how. He didn't understand this new development, this texting for the sake of texting, chatty conversations and all that whatnot.

"What do I say now?"

"Ask him about the show," Roxas suggested instantly, crouching down to dig through the pile of shoes on the closet floor. "They do different themes for every show, ask him what the theme is. Ask him what they're playing. Ask him what made rehearsal so awful today. Let him vent about Axel. Ask him when you reached such a horrifying level of pathetic that you, Sora Strife, all-star athlete and Twilight North's senior class "Most Outgoing," have to ask me, Roxas Strife, sassy social pariah, advice on how to talk to someone."

"It's hard," Sora whined, flinging himself over onto his back and glaring glumly at the stupid ceiling. He scrolled through the conversation thread aimlessly before slowly typing out _you know, can't deny roxas the chance to fangirl over axel again_, deleting it, typing _yeah, I'm definitely it. is it going to be a good show? _and deleting that too. He didn't know when he'd reached the point of overanalyzing every single character of every single text sent and received, but it was agonizing and tedious and he was going to throw his phone right out the window.

"I am pathetic," he announced. "You're right."

"Duh," Roxas sighed. "Stand up."

"I don't even know why it's a big deal," the brunet continued, heaving himself upright and shuffling across the room towards his brother. "It's not a big deal. It shouldn't be. Right"

"If you say so," Roxas agreed half-heartedly, straightening up with a pair of heavy black Etnies in his hands. "Cause, I mean, you don't want to date him."

"I don't," Sora protested. Roxas dropped the shoes by his feet before turning back towards the closet. "I'm fine with the status quo. Works great the way it is."

"Yup," Roxas nodded. "Absolutely." He faced Sora again, this time holding out a white baseball raglan with red sleeves. "Now, would you mind taking off the hoody your not-boyfriend didn't intentionally leave behind for you almost a month ago so you can put this on?"

"He's not my boyfriend," the brunet insisted, yanking the yellow zip-up off and tossing it over the back of his desk chair. "And I don't want him to be."

"And yet, you're still agonizing over what to text him back," his twin argued, diving into the closet for a third time. "If it doesn't matter then who gives a fuck what you say to him?" He reemerged empty-handed, abandoning the closet in favor of the bottom dresser drawer.

"The sex is great," Sora stated bluntly.

Roxas chucked a pair of black jeans at him, nailing Sora straight in the face, one leg dangling over his head. "My virgin ears," he whined. "Invalid answer."

"It doesn't matter," his smirking twin reiterated, and to prove his point he pulled the jeans off his face and stomped across the room, snatching up his phone from where he'd thrown it on the bed. His fingers flew across the screen, scrambling over the words _we'll definitely be there, I think we're leaving as soon as roxas finishes playing his favorite game of 'dress up the sora doll.' _and hitting send before he could second guess it.

"I'm so proud," Roxas muttered dryly. "Put the jeans on." He didn't wait to see if Sora was following his instructions, his attention back on the top drawer of the dresser.

"I don't like the shoes," Sora answered, dropping trou and kicking off his gym shorts. "Wouldn't the black and white Dunks go better? And I need a belt with these jeans or they start falling down."

"You're so fucking needy," the blond chided, tossing him the white rope belt he'd already had in his hands. "Phone."

Sora, who didn't need telling twice, was already diving for it, having abandoned all pretense of not caring.

_Tell him not to go too crazy, you do just fine on your own_.

What did that even mean?

"Okay, that had to be sexual," Roxas guessed, glancing back over his shoulder after several long seconds of silence.

Sora shook his head, snapping himself out of it with the jerking motion. "Actually, it says 'tell Roxas Axel's wearing lacy panties.'"

"Psht," Roxas rolled his eyes and returned to his drawers. "Please, I googled Rocky Horror. None of them wear lacy panties, and Axel's determined to be as authentic as possible. Try again."

He didn't bother waiting for a comeback, face-first in the closet now as he dug out first the requested pair of Nike Dunks, then a pair of cobalt blue Chuck Taylors. Sora watched his brother repeat the same dance of jumping between closet and dresser, this time for himself, with the same quiet amusement he usually reserved for fashionable!Roxas. Sora had never himself given a damn about his clothes; his mother had dressed him until he was old enough to discern the necessary difference between a clean t-shirt and a dirty t-shirt, and Roxas had taken over as soon as he was old enough to take an interest in their mother's shopping trips. Between a mother who subscribed to retail therapy and a brother whose biggest guilty pleasure in life was dressing other people up, he'd never really had to think about it.

But what did Riku mean, he did fine on his own? Was he saying that Sora had good taste? That the brunet actually looked _good_in the clothes he usually pulled on in the pre-6am-darkness of the twins' bedroom? Did it matter? What did Sora give a damn about whether or not Riku was saying that he looked good? Sora already knew the college student liked his body, he didn't need the reaffirmation. He didn't, no matter what the little tingly feeling in his stomach was trying to suggest otherwise.

"Just tell me what he said. You look like you're thinking so hard that your brain might melt and dribble out your ears, and that's a new shirt so I really can't have you getting brain on it." Roxas stood with his arms crossed over a blue plaid button down, expectantly raised eyebrow hidden under a thick gray beanie.

"You're so gay," Sora grumbled, even as he obligingly picked up his phone again. "I said 'we'll definitely be there, probably leaving as soon as Roxas finishes playing his favorite game of dress up the Sora doll.' His response was 'tell him not to go too crazy, you do just fine on your own.'"

Roxas bit back a laugh, shaking his head as he turned back to the closet to pull out a gray zip-up for himself. "You're an idiot," he sighed fondly. "Really, you're dumb as shit."

"What? Why?" Sora whined. "And how come I don't get a sweatshirt, it's cold."

"Because that defeats the whole purpose of wearing a shirt with the emphasis on the sleeves." Roxas heaved a long-suffering sigh, like he couldn't believe he actually had to explain himself. "Plus, now you have an excuse to score another hoody. I know he's got that one in blue, and I'm pretty sure red also, and I've seen him like what, four times ever, so I'd be willing to bet he has more."

"You're a manipulative bastard," the brunet grumbled, begrudgingly following his brother from their room without stopping for a sweatshirt. "What am I supposed to say to him?"

"That you do it to keep his sexy ass interested, so it's good to hear it's working," Roxas suggested.

"You're useless," Sora groaned, ignoring that that's exactly the kind of thing that Riku would say to him. "Useless."

* * *

><p>Chapter 5 literally picks up immediately where this one left off. And will NOT TAKE TWO MONTHS TO BE POSTED. I SWEAR.<p>

The two references in the last chapter, in case you were curious, were:

"Super Mega Foxy Awesome Hot" is from_ A Very Potter Musical_  
>and<br>"So named cause of the rocks in his head" is a line from the _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ (you really should have seen that one coming)

catch anything this time around?


	5. Whatever Happened to Saturday Night

Important things:

1. I'm not actually going to defend myself on this one, because this chapter, clocking in at 13,429 words in 34 pages, is longer than most of my one-shots. In fact, to put it into perspective, AM Static is 41 pages long. And Rotten Town, which is roughly the same word count, took me seven months to write. So really, I'm actually kind of proud that this only took me two months, all things considered.

2. You guys are your unflinching and unconditional support of my stupidly fucked up schedule and my lackluster performance thus far and WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WITH 140+ REVIEWS ON FOUR CHAPTERS? WHATS WRONG WITH YOU CRAZIES? I actually don't think it's possible to love a group of people more, and that's saying a lot, cause my best friends and I refer to each other as family.

3. That being said, this chapter would still be 10 pages long and consist mostly of notes to myself along the lines of "sora being a stupid asshole," "sora being awkward," "hey lauren, stop writing girls," "be less adorable, reeks," if it wasn't for my obsession with my tumblr followers. I'm pretty sure they think _they_ are the fangirls, but they have no fucking idea who is really fangirling over whom. SO. If you are reading this chapter, and you are delighted that it's not 10 pages long, five of which are mumbly ramblings to myself, you owe some serious thank yous to…well every single person I follow on tumblr and every single person who has ever reviewed this story, really, but in terms of kicking my ass for this chapter, the following people: **neitzarr, hullosweety, smallscalelies, daydreamdreamer, oziumactys, theplumtomato, urlykasunset, rocketshipromance, ph-nx, whisp3rheart, parrotprint, fuzzyblankets, morbidmandy422, kingdomheartsbro, homostuck-sexual, binchan, eyeslikestartlight **and **kookieme**, because when I angst and whine about writing shit, they love me until I feel better. (if I forgot anyone forgive me I love you I have to leave my office in negative five minutes so I'm rushing really bad)

4. Say Anything's new album, _Anarchy, My Dear_, leaked two months early. I angsted about the pros and cons of illegally downloading it for 45 minutes, and then promptly listened to the entire thing twice.

5. I actually have finished/made the "Conversations in Song Titles" playlist Roxas bought in Chapter 3. If you mentioned you wanted it, I will try to go through later and make a list of everyone who I need to send it to, but if you could possibly shoot me a message reminding me I would love you even more. Also, the Fall Fest/Halloween set list is kind of badass, even though Halloween was like three months ago. LASTLY, I made my own personal Hunger Games soundtrack, which I can't possibly work into this story in any way shape or form but I think might actually be the best playlist I've ever made in my entire life, so if you like The Hunger Games or if you like my playlists and you want the list, let me know.

**Things I Own**: An inordinate amount of American Apparel clothing, black fishnets, electric blue eyeshadow, five inch stilettos, and an abhorrence for cotton candy.

**Things I Don't Own**: Any and all of the Kingdom Hearts characters. Any and all Rocky Horror characters, costumes, or quotes mentioned. Songs on the Fall Fest set list, including My Chemical Romance, Lady Gaga, and various soundtrack people. I just like to pretend.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>: "Whatever Happened to Saturday Night"

* * *

><p>Sora's POV<p>

* * *

><p>They walked the ten blocks to the Sandlot in the midst of a steady stream of light-hearted bickering, stopping more than once along the way to have a brief struggle over Sora's phone when the brunet was 'being a little bitch' over texting Riku back. He still hadn't settled on a response by the time they reached the fair, an overwhelming arrangement of rows and rows of vendors selling everything from baked goods to handmade jewelry to authentic weapons. The rows of stalls were flanked on either side by an arc of carnival rides and arcade games, meeting at the top by a large bandstand.<p>

Roxas led the way like he knew exactly where they were going, darting between rows of tents until they were approaching the grandstand head-on. A small crowd had settled in front of the stage, watching the tail end of two old guys and ukuleles with half-hearted interest at best. The twins weaved their way through the loosely-packed crowd until they were only three rows back from the stage, settling in behind a group of giggly-looking girls.

"Why are we watching old men sing?" Sora sighed, tilting his head to frown at Roxas.

"Dunno, but this is my jam," Roxas insisted, rocking his head to the non-existent beat. He laughed at the look on his twin's face. "Nocturne's supposed to be going on in a few minutes, I'm sure this is their last song. Besides, I have no trouble imagining Axel taking the stage at 8:00 even if these guys are still sitting here, just climbing out over them and jumping into a song."

Sora couldn't disagree.

"You excited about tonight?"

"What, hanging out with Axel?"

"No, I heard the ukulele brothers are playing the Fall Fest after-party at the old folks home."

Roxas shot him a withering glare.

"I mean, I've seen him a couple times at Arpeggio's," the blond shrugged after a few moments of glaring.

"And you've had your phone surgically implanted into your hand so that you can text him at any and all hours of the day," the brunet teased. "And, lets be real, you haven't shut up about him. Or stopped playing any Melodious Nocturne recordings you can get your hands on. Really, Rox, your fangirling is precious."

"Oh, look, there's Riku."

Sora jumped, heart halfway up his throat as he turned wildly over his shoulder to look before he realized that Roxas was nearly doubled over with laughter at his side.

"You're an ass," he groaned, turning back to his brother and leading with his fist, punching Roxas square in the bicep.

"Shoulda seen your face," Roxas laughed, gingerly rubbing his arm. "Worth it. Tell me again how much you're not into him?"

A loud cheer from the surrounding crowd, that had doubled in size, good for you Melodious Nocturne, saved Sora from answering. Both twins glanced up just in time to see the red-haired lead singer bound out onto the stage, grinning as he waved out at the audience.

Sora chanced a look sideways at his twin. Roxas stared up at the stage with rapt attention on his face, watching Axel as though he'd never quite seen anything like him before.

It made Sora nervous. He hadn't spent that much time around Axel; generally right around when Sora made his way into the Twilight Tech dorms was right around when Axel found himself with a pressing need to be anywhere else in the world, but from what he could tell Axel seemed alright. He _was_Riku's best friend, and Riku was pretty great, so that had to count for something.

But it just…it just made him nervous. He'd never seen Roxas look at anyone like that before, and really, while it was about damn time that Roxas realized he wasn't the only emo gay boy in all of Twilight Town, and about damn time that Roxas get some attention other than Saïx and Xaldin shoving him into lockers, Sora really would have rather it be someone…safer.

Because _really_, the redhead jumping up onto a speaker and spreading his arms wide to address the crowd was anything but safe. Sora could see it lingering under the surface of those envy-green eyes, glowing even without the usual glare of stage lights; Axel was a great big ball of passion and joie de vivre and electricity and it was easy to imagine Roxas being drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and Sora was scared of watching his brother burn.

"What's up, Twilight Town!"

The answering roar jerked Sora back from his spiraling tangent of doom, dragging his attention back up to the singer all but demanding it. Axel was grinning down at the crowd, but as he drew one arm back to bring the mic to his lips, Sora caught sight of the bassist behind him.

Axel might have been looking at the crowd, but Riku was looking at _him_, right at him, like he could pick Sora right out of a crowd of what had to be at least a hundred teenagers. He almost thought it was a coincidence, that Mona Lisa magic trick musicians do when you could _swear_they're making eye contact with you, and so can the five people surrounding you, until Riku's trademark smirk shifted into something a little softer.

He actually _was _smiling at Sora. He knew it, even as the four girls standing in front of him began shrieking that . He'd seen that smile, that quiet little secret, directed at him so many times that he couldn't help but believe it was made for him, because how could Riku mean something so soft for anyone else, and how could those stupid girls believe anything so secret was meant for them?

It was an odd feeling, this burning, like tiny little parasites had sunk their claws into the very lining of his stomach. Riku was still smiling even as he looked back down at his bass, and the girls in front of him were still grabbing at each other squealing that 'oh my god he smiled right AT them, oh my god he's so hot,' and Sora wasn't quite sure but he might have actually growled, because Riku was _his_.

"Leave the teeny boppers alone," Roxas teased, leaning close into his brother's ear. Sora was shocked the blond had even noticed in his Axel-induced daze, and fuck didn't that just add a whole new element of problematic, if it was so obvious that Roxas was picking up on it.

Sora had a hard time focusing on the show after that. Not to say that it wasn't good: Melodious Nocturne was phenomenal, really. They'd pulled together a set list that managed to have just the right amount of Halloween without being overly cliché, not to mention a fuck yeah cover of "This is Halloween" that almost made Sora actually like _The Nightmare Before Christmas_.

No, the show was great, but there was something about the slowly sinking pit of his stomach that made him unable to truly appreciate the sight of Axel climbing up on an amp to demonstrate the proper technique for the Time Warp, the sound of Riku singing back-up for a weirdly good punk-rock cover of Lady Gaga's "Monster." The set was fantastic, and on a different night he'd probably have loved every second of it, but tonight he just couldn't get his brain to shut off long enough to enjoy even one of his all-time favorite guilty pleasure songs as the band launched into a cover of MCR's "Helena."

He was jealous of a bunch of stupid girls thinking Riku was smiling at them. He was jealous of a handful of unknown fifteen-year-olds for thinking that they had a chance with the comfortably gay, 19-year-old bass guitarist of a locally famous band.

If that wasn't reaching new levels of pathetic then he didn't really know what was.

"You're so deep into your own head you didn't even notice the show ending."

Sora glanced up. Sure enough, Axel was climbing down from his perch on the amp, one hand braced on top of Demyx' unruly head of hair as he hopped back down onto the stage. Luxord had already disappeared from behind his kit – three hands on the other side of the audience squabbling over a drumstick the only sign that he'd ever been there in the first place.

Riku was watching him again, something that might have been two parts question, one part concern, a splash of confusion, and a nice garnish of unabashed curiosity spilled across his fair features as he studied the brunet in the audience. Sora didn't quite meet his stare, shifting his gaze back toward the single raised eyebrow coming from his brother.

"The sight of your boyfriend pelvic thrusting sent me into a catatonic state of shock," Sora deadpanned.

Roxas scowled at him. "Don't have a boyfriend. Unlike some of us, who, for the record, didn't even notice his not-boyfriend's blatant eye-fucking the shit out of you. Wasted opportunity, stupid, musical-eye-sex is totally hot."

"Says Roxas the virgin," Sora teased. He preferred the subject _not_ being on him, Riku, or (and especially) him and Riku. _Especially_especially the subject of him and Riku and foreplay being discussed with his brother. Pass, thank you. "So like, are you supposed to be meeting up with them, or what?"

"Dunno," Roxas shrugged, allowing the blatant topic shift. "Axel just said he'd text me after the show."

"That's very pro-active of you," Sora nodded. "Or you could do something really productive, walk the ten feet to the fake-backstage area, and see if you can find them."

"Why, so you can run away and avoid Riku?" Roxas laughed. "I don't know, you look pretty cold. You might want to stick around and see if you can't snag a hoody."

"Your plots are transparent and you suck at manipulation," the brunet griped at his twin. "And I'm just fine, thank you very much, asshole." He was totally freezing his ass off, actually, but damned if he was going to admit that to Roxas.

"But you have to give him an 'A' for effort."

The twins turned, catching sight of the charcoal-haired teen weaving his way through the lingering crowd towards them. Sora had seen him a few times before, always at parties or in Demyx' room, always a peripheral member of the group that Sora had somehow never been properly introduced to. He seemed to know them though, stopping in front of Roxas and leveling his one visible eye on the blond.

"Zexion, right?"

Zexion, apparently, nodded.

"What's up," Roxas gave him the universal head nod of acknowledgement before jerking his head slightly towards his twin. "You know my brother Sora, yeah?"

"I don't think we've ever really been introduced," the gray-haired boy shrugged. "But I've seen him around."

"Yeah," Sora agreed, reaching out to grasp Zexion's extended hand. "Same. Nice to finally meet you."

"Zexion's Nocturne's manager," Roxas explained. "And, as dubbed by Demyx, occasional merch girl."

"And, apparently, Axel's bitch," Zexion quipped. "His phone's dead, probably because he doesn't put it down for fear of missing a text from you. He asked me to come out here and get you. And, since Axel and Riku like to think they're interchangeable, Riku also thinks I'm his personal messenger service and told me to tell Sora not to 'disappear.'"

"Busted," Roxas snickered. "So much win for me, so much fail for you. Don't worry, So, I'll tell Riku you're eagerly awaiting his presence."

"Weak," Zexion scoffed. "We'll tell Riku Sora's pining away out here with bated breath, desperately awaiting the moment of sweet reunion in which they will bromance all over each other."

"I like you," Roxas sighed happily. "Together we will do great things. Try not to get lost, Sora."

The blond took off before his twin could respond, Zexion trailing along behind him with a single smirk tossed carelessly over his shoulder. The brunet did his level best to stamp down on his rising panic attack. Zexion had said bromance. Whatever he did or did not know about Riku, he apparently continued to labor under the opinion that Sora was straight. Or at least that their newfound level of camaraderie was still being perceived as two dudes infatuated with their sheer mutual awesomeness, not with experimenting with increasingly valiant efforts at crawling into the same skin.

Sora hadn't realized how absolutely not ready for that he was until it was almost slapping him in the face. Not really so much in terms of fear – he'd seen the parade of stupid following his brother, he'd already resigned himself to what he was in for when word got out.

No, the fear was making this real, of too many people knowing too much, asking too many questions, forcing him to put a label on this thus-far unnamed _thing_. Labels meant definitions, and defining meant mutually agreeing upon the same feelings, and feelings meant figuring out what he felt, and oh boy was Sora _not_ready for that. He liked the status quo just fine, the burgeoning friendship with the occasional boundary cross into the explicit and illicit, that quiet little subtlety that no one else had to know about. Axel was a necessary evil, Roxas an accidental and unavoidable truth, and no one else needed to know.

"I heard you were pining for me."

Sora jumped approximately eighteen feet into the air, one hand clutching his heart like the pathetic little girl he apparently was turning into. Riku stood at his elbow with a small smirk on his face, and why was everyone always _smirking_at him?

"Your sources are both faulty and biased, you creepy fucking sneak," the brunet shot back, once his heart rate had settled back down to something relatively slower than a high-speed jackhammer.

Riku raised an eyebrow at him, that damnable smirk still curling one corner of his mouth. "It's not my fault you're such a space case."

"I was attempting to permanently erase the memory of your piss-poor impersonation of the "Thriller" dance. It took a lot of concentration."

"There's a reason I play bass," Riku conceded, accepting the good-natured ribbing. "Seriously, don't ever go to a club with me."

"I've seen drunk Riku dance," Sora reminded him. Saying no to Kairi was a challenge on a good day, inebriated and uninhibited she was near impossible to turn down, and Party Girl Kairi liked to dance to throwback pop songs. "The first night I met you, remember?"

"Oh god, and you still talked to me?" Riku laughed, running one hand through his hair.

"Pretty sure you didn't give me much choice in the matter." The brunet, because apparently he was spending way too much time around sardonic people these days, smirked at the way the older boy's face flushed. It was, in Sora's defense, entirely accurate, but then again, in Riku's defense, Sora hadn't exactly been complaining, then or now.

"Are you accusing me of conversation molestation?" the bassist challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"I would never accuse you of molestation," Sora replied solemnly.

"It's not molestation if you like it," Riku agreed.

He was perfectly aware that they were flirting. Openly, brazenly, Riku was sober and out in public and flirting with him and Sora was sober and out in public and giving as good as he got. It should have made his heart race and his palms sweat and his tongue to trip over his words, but the overwhelming weight settling in the pit of his stomach distracted from any other physiology.

What was he _doing_? Who let his lips and his tongue and his vocal chords make such brash decisions without first consulting with his brain? He shouldn't be doing this, wasn't going to do this, wasn't going to torture himself with the dangling carrot of a potential relationship with Riku. What they had was fine exactly as it was, and there was no reason in hell to try to change it. Changing a good thing was only going to ruin it, and fuck all to hell the annoying, sing-songy, Roxas-esque voice chanting "methinks the lady doth protest too much," through his head.

"…and grow tails like mermaids and dive to the darkest bottom of the Atlantic until we find sunken treasure, or maybe a whole pirate ship."

"What? Mermaids?" Sora blinked, shaking his head lightly and staring at Riku. The silver-haired teen rolled his eyes, an amused grin gracing his lips even as he scoffed.

"You have the attention span of a gnat, do you know that?" Riku laughed, ducking to the side as Sora reached out to flick his temple. "I was, before you left for lala land, asking you what your plans were for tonight."

Sora froze, the panic he'd thought he'd left behind in his bedroom rushing right back at him full steam ahead, nailing him smack dab in the middle of a mental freak out. What were his plans for the evening? Was Riku asking him out? Like, on a date? Or were they just hanging out? Was Riku going to Rocky Horror? Was he just bored and hoping Sora would entertain him? Were these plans of the public or private variety?

Was he actually about to puke all over both of their shoes, or was his stomach just revolting against the weight sinking like a stone all the way down through his intestines?

The younger teen opened his mouth to respond, still not sure what he was actually going to say, when he felt something warm and solid collide with his side, an arm landing heavily over his shoulders. The blur of blond hair in his peripheral was a hint, but it was the appearance of a tall redhead at Riku's side that confirmed the assailant as Roxas.

"Brother dearest, you didn't run away!" Roxas cooed dramatically, "how wonderful for you."

"Get off me, freak," Sora grumbled, elbowing his twin lightly in the ribs. Roxas dodged the blow easily, laughing in the brunet's ear. Axel, on the other side, was saying something to Riku that was making the silver-haired teen glare mockingly at him, leaving Roxas free to tighten the arm around Sora's neck and pull brother twin closer.

"Just say yes. Don't overthink it, don't second guess it, just do it," Roxas hissed against Sora's ear, releasing his brother and shoving him away before the brunet could spit out so much as a single word. Sora stumbled backwards slightly, thrown off balance by Roxas' exuberance, or maybe by Roxas' design, landing him almost directly on top of Riku. Riku, without even glancing away from his glaring/staring/conversation with Axel, curled one hand around Sora's hip and steadied the brunet, nudging him back upright onto his feet.

"You two are just precious," Axel sighed wistfully, tearing his gaze away from Riku to look pointedly at his hand instead. Sora flushed, stepping back towards Roxas and pulling away from the two musicians.

"Kind of makes me want to vom," Roxas agreed. "Anyway, we just came to tell you kids we're heading out. Don't wait up now, be good."

Axel had already taken several steps away from the group still standing by the stage, turning back only to beckon Roxas towards him and share one final shout of, "don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"That limits us to…absolutely nothing," Riku called back, laughing at the way Axel threw two thumbs high up into the air without even looking at his roommate. The college student shook his head fondly, turning back to Sora with a casual air that belied the gravity Sora felt the situation deserved. "So? Plans tonight?"

Sora took a deep breath. This was a bad idea, a bad idea, such a bad idea, such a super so bad idea, bad, bad, bad…

"Hanging out with you."

* * *

><p>Roxas' POV<p>

* * *

><p>"So, on a scale of one to 'the most awkward night ever…'"<p>

"Oh god, so awkward," Roxas laughed. "Did you see the look on Sora's face? Riku might as well have asked him to extoll upon the finer points of quantum physics."

"This is so much better now that you know," Axel sighed, nudging Roxas' shoulder with his elbow. "It's so hard to make fun of them when there's no one around to hear the jokes."

"Why are we making fun of who?" Demyx interrupted. He was all but bouncing on the balls of his feet, standing between Zexion and the almost-fully-loaded van of Melodious Nocturne's equipment.

"Riku and Sora are too cool for Rocky Horror, apparently," Axel lied smoothly, bending down to grab one of the last few crates of wires off the grass.

Demyx feigned a highly affronted look, one hand flying up to cross his heart. "Those lame bastards," he hissed, artfully dodging the smack Zexion aimed at the back of his head. "All the insults!"

"Riku is the epitome of suave charm and cool," Zexion reminded them. "Remember? We're lucky he even deigns to grace us with his awe-inspiring presence."

"Oh, you too, then?" Roxas chucked, raising an eyebrow. "If you look up 'awesome' in the dictionary, they don't bother with a definition, just a picture of Sora's face. True fact."

Zexion smirked. "No wonder they're too good for Rocky Horror."

"Excuse me," Demyx interrupted, tossing one last amp into the back of the van and slamming the door with an overly-exaggerated hip-check that was not unlike his earlier attempts at pelvic thrusting. "Rocky Horror _is_awesome, so clearly Riku and Sora are not too cool for it, they're not cool enough. Which is their loss, really, because they're about to miss out on a fucking awesome night."

"And it's going to start," Zexion agreed, "right now. Right there." He pointed to a handful of tents halfway down the nearest row of carnival booths. Each and every one boasted large, loud advertisements for CORNED DOGS, DEEP FRIED OREOS, ZEPPOLI, GYROS. WORLD BEST BBQ WINGS. Roxas was salivating at the very thought and, once he realized it, the _ohgodyum _smell. Fresh hot French fries and kettle corn and dirty water hot dogs that he knew didn't even taste good but goddamn were they mouthwatering.

"How can you think about food at a time like this?" Axel gaped. "There's so much excitement to get to, fuck the food."

"Fuck the food?" Roxas echoed, disbelief dripping from every letter. "For the love of God, man, what's wrong with you?"

"This kid," Demyx nodded sagely, slinging an arm around the other blond's shoulder, "this kid is going places."

"Namely, over there," the kid in question agreed, nodding towards the food tents Zexion had already taken off towards. "Let's go, beanpole, it's food time. You can wait a little while longer for your lacy lingerie."

"It's not lacy," Axel protested, scurrying to catch up to the three boys already halfway towards the admittedly appealing rows of deliciousness. "That would be weird."

"Yes," Zexion muttered. "Definitely much weirder than pleather and a corset."

The wait for their dinner, and the subsequent scarfing down of more deep-fried-sugar-coated-crap than even the growingest of young boys should strictly be consuming, went much quicker than Axel's consistent whining would suggest, and before the redhead could even get a good rant going the four boys were determinedly squishing their way into what was really meant to be a two-and-a-half seater at best. They managed, only when Roxas swung one leg over Axel's and Zexion hitched his hip up against the passenger door, to pull both doors shut long enough to lock them. Mission success. It was far from comfortable, and twelve different kinds of unsafe, but Roxas barely had time to lose feeling in his legs before they were screeching to a halt outside the Twilight Tech sophomore dorms and Zexion was falling out the open passenger door.

Roxas was somewhat surprised by the total lack of bullshitting and griping over whose turn it was to unload the equipment. Apparently Rocky Horror was Serious Business and Not to Be Trifled With: aside from one grumbled agreement that Luxord was a douche for leaving them with all the work just so he could go pick up his stupid date, there was barely a word of complaint as the two musicians and their manager began hauling piles of stuff out of the van. Roxas, a soundboard under one arm, Riku's bass over his shoulder, and an amp in each hand, followed suit.

"Record time," Demyx cheered, slamming the door with an even more enthusiastic (read: flamboyant) hip thrust than he had the first time. "Had to be."

"Doesn't count," Zexion shook his head, swiping his ID through the card reader one last time and pulling open the front door of the building. "We never have four people at once, that's an unfair advantage."

"You're an unfair advantage," Demyx grumbled back, jabbing one finger into the elevator call button.

"That," Axel rolled his eyes, "was an excellent comeback. Real smooth."

"Bite me," the blond shot back. "Just for that I'm telling everyone the pregame's in your – oh." He trailed off, frowning at the phone he'd just pulled from his pocket as he read the text message sent fifteen minutes ago from the redhead himself, inviting everyone to Axel's and Riku's in whatever states of dress or undress they preferred to party in.

Demyx and Zexion left them on the sixth and seventh floors respectively, promising (threatening) to be upstairs in twenty minutes tops. Roxas ignored the waggling eyebrows from Demyx and the smirk from Zexion, pointedly pretending he hadn't realized that, for the first time since they met, he was going to be alone, in a completely private, behind-closed-doors place, with Axel.

If the older teen noticed a sudden shift in Roxas' mood, he didn't show it. He ushered the blond into his and Riku's shared dorm room with a casual wave of his hand, shutting, but not locking, the door behind him.

"Make yourself at home," Axel offered. "That one's mine," he nodded towards a hastily made bed boasting traffic-cone-orange sheets and what looked like half a crumpled blanket. "Other one's Riku's. Can't remember the last time your brother was over, so I think it's safe to sit on if you want."

"Ew," Roxas choked out, coughing violently in an attempt to cover up his (entirely inappropriate, stop that!) laughter. Just like that, in that magnificent way Axel had, the tension had completely dissipated. "That's disgusting, thank you."

"You're more than welcome," Axel nodded graciously.

He dropped himself down into his desk chair and began fumbling through drawers, leaving Roxas to clamber up onto the slightly lofted bed and turn a discerning eye on the surrounding room. He was a big believer in the fact that you could tell a lot about a person by their bedroom, and Axel's did not disappoint. Posters littered the walls on both boys' sides, and Roxas hardly noticed Axel grumbling to himself about mascara and fucking glitter as he started cataloguing the decorations. Say Anything was appreciated but hardly unexpected, neither were the smattering of flyer-sized adverts for Melodious Nocturne shows at Organization XIII, but the life-sized movie poster of Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn in _Return of the King_, sandwiched between the iconic image of Hogwarts in flames and the intricate crossed-keyblade logo from the Keyblade Master video game series definitely were.

"You," Roxas accused, "are a closet nerd."

"Roxas," Axel sighed, pulling his face far enough away from the mirror to turn and look at the blond lounging on his garish sheets. "I'm not in the closet about _anything_."

Roxas took one look at him, one hovering hand holding a miniscule brush heavy with blue powder, turquoise eyeshadow covering one eyelid from lashes to brow, stone-cold serious expression schooling his features, and burst into raucous peels of laughter. The redhead maintained his glower for all of two seconds before he lost it too, dropping his forehead into his free hand as his shoulders began shaking uncontrollably.

They continued in the same vain as Axel finally calmed down enough to resume his face-painting, Roxas occasionally pointing out certain posters or flyers, Axel tearing his eyes away from his own reflection long enough to answer a question or share the story. The mysterious DTF TDF poster was signed by one of his favorite bands, The Downtown Fiction, who apparently sang the original version of one of the songs off the EP. The Something Corporate lithograph was a gift from his older brother when they ditched school to hit up the band's first show in five years. Ludo was another band they borrowed songs from fairly often, including two from the show earlier that night.

Roxas was in the middle of asking him about a postcard shaped like a cupcake when the door unceremoniously flew open to reveal Demyx, looking for all the world like a grungy biker boy in black and leather, and a slightly hulking, well, _dude_, with a long black ponytail and a scar running the length of his cheek. The blond studied the newcomer, standing somewhat awkwardly behind Demyx, looking entirely out of place in a three-piece suit and a cravat that covered the better part of his neck, and reached his conclusion just as Axel glanced up.

"Xiggy!" the redhead cheered, mostly confirming Roxas' suspicions that the ponytail belonged to Demyx' roommate, Xigbar. "Coming out to play with the gays?"

"As if. Still after my ass, Flamesilocks?" 'Xiggy' shot back, following Demyx the rest of the way into the room and closing the door.

"Always, Xi," Axel snerked, turning back to his mirror with a quick wink at the blond still perched on his bed. "How'd you know we needed a criminologist?"

"Please," the surfer scoffed, "Demyx wouldn't shut up about it. Figured I'd see what all the fuss is about."

"I can't wait to watch you get hit on all night." Demyx grinned evilly, meeting Roxas' eye across the room. "Lucky for you, once Rocky over here gets his costume on everyone will be way too distracted to pay attention to you, Xig."

"The famous Roxas, I'm guessing?"

Roxas nodded. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly, or why, but something about Xigbar reminded him for the first time of the fact that he was so much younger than the rest of the crowd he was planning to spend the night with.

"Word. These two won't shut up about you," Xigbar jerked his head towards the pair sitting at Axel's desk, Demyx rifling through what Roxas was slowly realizing was a fairly sizeable makeup collection.

"Only terrible things, I'm sure," Roxas took a stab at nonchalance, though he was almost certain he was blushing.

"Heinous things," Axel called over.

"All sorts of lies about you," Demyx agreed. "I will, however, tell Xiggy the truth, and only the truth, about how fucking great you are if you tell me you know how to do a convincing bloody bruise out of stage makeup."

"You go to a school full of theater techs," Roxas reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "You really can't find anyone more qualified to paint your face?"

"My go-to costume bitch went to visit her stupid boyfriend for the weekend," the blond grumbled. "Who the fuck leaves school Halloween weekend?"

"The lamest of lame people." From the way Axel said it, heavy with an eye roll and an accompanied snort of agreement from Xigbar, Roxas had a feeling that this was hardly the first time Demyx had whined about the subject. He couldn't help but wonder if Demyx was more put out by the fact that his friend had left him high and dry without a make up artist, or the fact that she was off visiting her boyfriend.

"Whatever, I'll get Zex to do it," Demyx grumbled, looking sulky.

"Oh man, you should have seen Zex today, Xig." Axel straightened up, turning around to glance at the surfer slouched against his bed. "Talking to near strangers and everything. Our little boy is growing up."

"Dude, no way," Xigbar mock gasped, staring between Axel and Roxas. "You must be major, blondie, if you've got Z acting like a socially functioning human being around you."

"Leave him alone," Demyx whined. "Honestly, you make Zexion sound like a freak."

"He is a freak," Axel insisted. He timed it well, pairing it off with a flourish of glitter across the apple of one cheek. "Just like the rest of us. We're all mad here."

"Alice in Wonderland," Roxas called from his perch on the bed, ducking out of the way of the tube of lip gloss Axel chucked at his head in response. "You should have been the Mad Hatter for Halloween. You fit the profile."

"Tell me you actually get all of his nerdy little quotes and shit." Xigbar raised an eyebrow at the slightly blushing blond, who shrugged and fought the urge not to turn to Axel for help.

"Being smarter than you doesn't make me a nerd," the redhead scoffed. "Just makes you dumb as shit."

The redhead stood up before Xigbar could answer, effectively ending the conversation as he revealed the results of his cosmetic efforts. With the glitter and the vampy red lipstick and the painted-on blush it was almost hard to decide where to look first. Almost, because somehow Axel had managed to take electric blue eyeshadow and liberal amounts of heavy black kohl and a painstaking amount of mascara and somehow managed to put it together in a way that not only didn't look bad, but was actually outright mesmerizing.

Eyeliner, Roxas thought, when he was once again capable of such functions, was either god's gift to man or the devil's toy. Either way, he was thanking every deity he knew of for blessing Axel with the art of perfect application.

"You look like a tart."

Zexion, Luxord, and a girl Roxas vaguely remembered as the bartender from Organization XIII, stood in the open doorway, all three of them looking at Axel with something between amusement and exasperation. It had been Luxord, apparently, who'd made that not-entirely-inaccurate observation, and Roxas was surprised to realize that the blond drummer had a Port Royale accent.

"You look like an incestuous, mutinous bastard," Axel shot back, grinning. "And you're not even in costume yet."

"It's not incest, Axel, it's just some casual elbow sex," the girl corrected him, snickering. She turned scrutinizing eyes towards Axel's bed, giving careful appraisal to first Roxas, then Xigbar.

"I remember you," she nodded at the other blond. "You're the underage kid from the last Nocturne show."

"The way you say underage, Larx…" Axel sighed. He didn't bother finishing his thought amid the laughter, shrugging slightly and turning on Roxas. Even he was giggling slightly (it hella beat sitting around looking awkward, which was his default inclination), watching Axel with a raised eyebrow.

"Whatever, assholes," the redhead grumbled. "Come on, Rox, costume time."

* * *

><p>Sora's POV<p>

* * *

><p>"Don't you think it's kind of weird?"<p>

"What is?" Sora asked, glancing sideways. Riku stood need to him, leaning back against a partition outside the Gravitron. The brunet had been watching people stumbling off the dizzying carnival favorite, but apparently Riku had been watching _him_.

It was less bizarre than he'd feared it would be, spending time with Riku out in the real world. It didn't hurt that the entire experience, save the occasional slip into the sexual, was almost completely platonic.

"I can think of at least five different ways to make you shiver," the college student said quietly, "but I don't know your birthday or your favorite color, or what position you play on your blitzball team."

Sora laughed. "Only five?" Their hands were close enough, shoulders pressed together, arms dangling against the metal rail, that Sora barely had to move at all to reach up and ghost his fingertips along the inside of Riku's bare wrist. The silver-haired teen, predictably, twitched like a chill had just danced down his spine.

"Brat," he muttered, slapping Sora's hand away. "Your hands are fucking freezing. Here." Riku pushed himself fully upright off the railing, shrugging out of the royal blue hoody Sora had been eyeing up for the last hour and holding it out to the brunet.

Sora stared at it for just slightly too long. Riku's hoody. Riku's hoody, offered to him, upfront. Not left behind under the guise of forgetting it, not begged off as a favor from a friend with a spare. Taken right off his own back and offered to Sora, just like that.

Forget platonic, Riku might as well have bought him flowers.

"I'm not cold," he prodded gently, nudging Sora with his outstretched hand. Riku was watching the younger boy with his bottom lip between his teeth, like he knew exactly what Sora was thinking, but instead of calling him out on it, offered a cover. "Seriously. Some of us don't let our idiot brothers dress us, and therefore wear layers before planning to spend a Saturday night in October outside."

_I don't deserve you_.

Sora reached out and grabbed the (soft soft oh god warm and soft god yes) hoody before he did something stupid, like saying aloud the words that had just popped unbidden into his head. He settled back down against the guard rail, pulling the sweatshirt's cuffs over his frozen hands before shoving them into the pockets.

He needed to stop being an idiot. It wasn't a date. Riku wasn't trying to seduce him. They were just hanging out, like friends. Sora being an ass, making a big deal out of nothing, and now Riku was looking uncomfortable and that was a damn shame.

"February 13."

Riku glanced over out of the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smile lifting up

"And my favorite color's red. I play defense. I could eat Annie's White Cheddar Mac and Cheese for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, my favorite movie when I was little was _Peter Pan_, and I'm afraid of ferris wheels."

"Ferris wheels?" Riku deadpanned, turning his head to look the brunet straight on.

Hopefully, if he sounded indignant enough, Riku wouldn't notice that he was blushing like a little girl. "They're like, death traps," he insisted, nodding towards the rickety-looking disaster a hundred yards to their left. "_Look_at that monstrosity, the whole thing could come toppling over if you pull out the wrong screw."

"So roller coasters are a no, then?" Riku guessed. He sounded very much like he was doing his best not to laugh.

"Roller coasters," Sora sniffed, "are _badass _and _awesome_, and shouldn't even be in the same overall category as ferris wheels, let alone the same theme park."

"Duly noted," Riku nodded, and he was definitely laughing now. Bastard. "Okay, lemme try again. February 13th, huh? Bet that's interesting."

"Good boy." The brunet rewarded Riku with a pat on the head, snickering as the older teen snapped his teeth at him. "It is interesting. Mostly fun, cause I get a boatload of chocolate for my birthday, which is pretty much the greatest thing ever. This one year though, I got my sorry ass dumped the day before. Being depressed and pathetic and single on Valentine's Day is one thing, but being depressed and pathetic and single on your birthday is just completely unacceptable."

"Aww," Riku teased, nudging Sora's shoulder with his own. "Poor Sora. I bet you and Roxas sat home with a massive box of chocolate and _The Notebook_."

Sora snorted. That had, more or less, been his plan. "1. We are not little girls," he lied. "2. You don't know Roxas. We watched a marathon of trashy slasher films and overdosed on as much greasy fried crap as Rox could find."

"It must be really cool, having a twin."

It was strange, the timing of this, because he couldn't remember the last time he so desperately wished his twin was with him, or that their twin telepathy was working properly, or that Roxas could somehow will him into proper action. He wasn't sure what to make of this, this whole scenario of flirting under the guise of 'hanging out,' and the conversations that, despite flowing just fine, was feeling a little too 'first date-y.' _Roxas_, for all his complete obliviousness when it came to himself, could have figured it out in a heartbeat.

"It is," he agreed. "It's…I don't know. It's like he's more than a brother? Minus the fact that that sounds cheesy as shit?"

"You have other brothers to compare it to?" Riku asked.

Sora nodded, hoisting himself up onto the railing, balancing precariously on the thin metal ledge. "Cloud. He's 23 and lives in Radiant Gardens."

"Sora and Cloud." Riku grinned. "And then there's Roxas, out of left field."

"We used to tell Rox he was adopted."

"Your twin brother?"

The brunet laughed, shrugging his shoulders with an unabashed grin. "And you haven't even seen Cloud…Roxas is like his mini-me. Trust me, there's a reason I'm the token jock in the Strife family. Rox got my share of the common sense."

"My brothers and I look scary alike," Riku started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. "Until you actually look at us."

"Huh?"

Riku thumbed through his phone for a few seconds before turning the screen towards the boy on his right.

At first glance all he could see was an overwhelming abundance of shockingly silver hair and exotic blue-green-seaglass-ocean eyes. Without looking closer, without really studying the soft distinctions between the faces, the four boys looked like clones of each other.

"You have three brothers?"

"Older," Riku nodded, pointing them out one by one. "Loz, Yazoo, and Kadaj. And me," he added as an afterthought.

"Three older brothers," Sora shuddered. "So did you get beat on once an hour, or just three times a day?"

The musician laughed, flipping his phone in his hand and tucking it back into his pocket. "More like three times an hour. Loz and I formed an alliance when I was 14 though, so that made things slightly more even."

"Now see, _that's_the cool thing about having a twin. Rox and I were holy terrors, especially united."

"What do you mean _were_," Riku goaded. "You're definitely hell on wheels, Sora Strife, and from what I hear your brother's a piece of work in his own right. I've never seen Axel fall all over himself like that before."

"Really?" Sora had promised himself he wasn't going to pry, wasn't going to do that to Roxas or put Riku in that position, but hello…opportunity, silver platter…

Riku snorted. "Please." He shook his head. "It's so nauseating it actually hurts. It took him four hours to figure out what to wear for tonight's show. Four. Hours. Roxas didn't even see him in that outfit for four whole hours."

"So he's not like…" he didn't know how to say it, didn't really want to. Thank god (bless him, Riku really was spectacular), he didn't have to.

The silver haired teen was quiet for a few seconds, turning away from Sora to study the Dragon Wagon across the way from them.

"Axel talks big game," he said finally. "Believe me, I know. He's one of those irritatingly charismatic people that you can't help but be caught up in. But he's also one of the most genuine guys I've ever met. I mean, don't get me wrong," he smirked, "he's a right little shit. But you don't have anything to worry about."

Sora nodded slowly. He still wasn't sure, still wasn't convinced, not ready to buy it completely, but…he trusted Riku. That much he was sure of.

"Okay." He exhaled once. Twice. Took a deep breath. "Wanna ride the Gravitron until we puke?"

Riku pushed himself up off the rail, turning to the brunet with an easy grin that did terrible things to the contents of Sora's stomach.

"First one out buys the winner as much junk food as he wants."

"You're on."

* * *

><p>Roxas' POV<p>

* * *

><p>He was seriously starting to regret his decision to eat that second bag of zeppoli.<p>

Admittedly, they had been delicious, and worth every damn bite and every puff of powdered sugar all over his face and fingers, but if _that _was seriously what Axel was planning on making him wear then he probably should have stopped eating some time last week. I mean. Jesus Christ, he had boxer briefs that were longer than those shorts.

"Chickening out on me, Rocky?"

"No," Roxas insisted, grabbing the metallic fucking gold hot shorts off the back of the bathroom stall in a glorious moment of self-defiance. "Just trying to figure out how many different ways I can humiliate you in return."

"Roxas," Axel scoffed. "Seriously, put it on and come out here, and I swear you'll feel much better. Trust me."

Muttering obscenities just loudly enough to make sure Axel could hear him, Roxas begrudgingly kicked off his sneakers, unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans off his hips. He considered the shorts for a few seconds, blue eyes flicking between them and his boxers before dropping trou entirely, pulling the gold spandex on and up before he could second-guess his decision.

Jesus fucking Christ on a cross these fuckers were _tight_. Tight and tiny, barely covering all the necessary bits. God, he knew _girls_that wouldn't be caught dead in these. He was going to get molested.

"I'm so incredibly serious," the blond warned, flipping the lock on the bathroom stall and elbowing the door open. "If you're wearing anything less than – "

Roxas stopped cold. Dead. Frozen. He suddenly understood every cliché ever told about palms sweating, eyes bulging, mouth going so dry his tongue practically shriveled up and choked him.

Axel stood leaning against the row of sinks, one hip propped against the counter, arms, covered in elbow-length fingerless gloves, crossed over his waist. His mile-fucking-long legs, wrapped in thigh-high fishnets and ending in black stilettos, shifted as he straightened up, revealing a garter belt, black briefs, and a black pleather corset that had _no business_fitting anyone that well, let alone a flat-chested man. Black and leather and fishnets and stupid clown make-up and Roxas should have been rolling on the ground laughing his barely-covered ass off at how ridiculous the redhead looked, not drooling buckets on the bathroom floor.

"Uh," he tried, testing the strength of his vocal chords. Weak, if truth be told.

"Holy shit," Axel laughed, and Roxas would have been offended save for the breathless quality of the redhead's tone.

"Seriously. I, ah – "

And wasn't that nice, that Roxas wasn't the only one in the room who'd lost the ability to form coherent words like a normal human being. Good. Except it seemed that most other normal human being abilities – moving, swallowing, breathing – had abandoned Roxas all the same, which left him rather useless at anything more than standing stock still and staring at Axel. Not that he wasn't content with doing just that for the rest of his goddamn life. _Fuck_.

Axel shook his head lightly and laughed, this time with a little more conviction, and just like that the air came rushing back into Roxas' lungs and his tongue remembered that it was meant for more than just licking every square inch of those fishnet-covered legs.

"N-nice thigh highs." Okay, vocal chords needed work, but it was a start.

"Nice thighs," Axel shot back.

This he could do. This he could work with, the banter, the teasing. He'd spend enough time at Arpeggio's in recent weeks to be comfortable with the easy back and forth he and Axel had fallen into. Sure, it was laced with innuendo and double entendre, they toed that line between teasing and seriously pursuing, but they'd never come quite this close to jumping clear over it.

"I have never, in my entire life, worn something this short. I'm pretty sure my _diapers_were longer than this," Roxas grumbled. Stringing coherent words together in a sentence, more progress. It was easier when he was studying his own reflection: narrow waist, chicken legs, gold shorts that left little to the imagination. At least the shoes, hi-top Dunks Axel had spray-painted metallic gold, were cool. "Where the shit did you even get these?"

"American Apparel," Axel snorted. "Duh. Who else would make metallic gold unisex hot shorts?"

Roxas heaved a long-suffering sigh, throwing himself one last look before turning his back on the Bad Idea looking back at him in the mirror.

"Aren't we kind of…asking for it?"

"Well, yeah," Axel laughed, bending down to scoop up his own discarded clothing. Roxas fought with every breath in his body not to look at that ass. "That's kind of the point, sweetheart. Rocky Horror's not your average Sunday school picnic. I promise I'll defend your honor when you get hit on by everyone under the age of 40."

"No, I mean." The blond bit his lip, turning his blushing cheeks away from the amused college student. "I mean. Aren't we…" he gestured back and forth between them. "I don't know. You'd literally be less of a target in a neon rainbow 'recruiter' shirt."

It was the closest he'd come to openly acknowledging either of their sexualities since the first night he'd met Axel. The redhead was standing impossibly still on those wobbling heels of his, watching Roxas with a carefully neutral expression on his painted features.

"You're worried about getting…what? Made fun of? Hurt?"

"The ever-loving shit beat out of both of us," Roxas muttered. He busied himself with gathering his clothes up off the floor, folding and refolding his shirt several times.

"What are they teaching you in that godforsaken high school of yours?" the redhead mused, voice uncharacteristically serious. The look he leveled Roxas with, unavoidable even in his peripheral, expressed just how much this was _not_a rhetorical question, no matter how Roxas wanted to play it off.

"How to keep your head down and your mouth shut," he said shortly, straightening up and depositing his clothes on the counter. The movement unsettled his flannel; he'd have to refold it again.

"Roxas."

Roxas looked up, meeting the reflection of Axel's entirely too-green stare in the mirror. Neither of them said anything for several long seconds, but Axel, it seemed, was learned in the way of studying faces, because instead of pursuing the tense silence he just let it go

"Well," he said instead, cocking a knowing eyebrow, "you're in for a ride tonight, then, Rocky. No one does Rocky Horror quiet like the gays, and its right up there next to Pride and the Halloween parade in the Village on a list of a homophobe's worst nightmares. Besides," he reached up and thumbed the younger boy's jaw lightly, steering the blond around to look him in the eye for real. "Anyone tries to touch you and I'll shove my spiky heels of death right up where the sun don't shine. Everyone knows Rocky was made for Frank. Janet can suck my dick."

Roxas snorted with laughter, shaking his head and letting some of the tension drain from his shoulders. Axel treated him to a grin and a salacious wink before regaining some of his earlier composure, cupping one hand against Roxas' cheek to make sure the shorter boy couldn't turn away.

"Seriously though," the redhead started, oozing calm reassurance. "It's not like it's just you and me, yeah? I mean, Xigbar's shoulders are like the broad side of a rhino, and Luxord has arms like you wouldn't believe from so many years of drumming. Plus he'll be showing off for Larxene. Demyx is a surprisingly scrappy little bitch in a fight, and, well…Zex glares a lot. If you're really, really uncomfortable you can change, or bail, or whatever you want to do, but I promise we've got your back, and I really promise you're not even going to need it."

Roxas took a deep breath. He didn't buy it in the slightest – not that Axel and his friends wouldn't be there for him, or for each other, he had plenty of faith in that considering he barely knew them, but that they were possibly going anywhere in Twilight Town where the only judging would be part of a costume contest. But still. He really wanted to do this – he'd never let himself live it down if he didn't at least try going.

"Can I wear my jeans at least for the walking to the theater part?"

Axel gave him a fond look. "Yeah man, it's fucking cold outside. Of course you can."

Roxas nodded slowly.

The redhead grinned. "Then I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey..."

* * *

><p>Sora's POV<p>

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you can eat that right now," Riku groaned, grimacing as he watched Sora take a particularly enormous chunk out of a fluff of cotton candy.<p>

"I can't believe you almost actually puked," Sora shot back, sticking his pink-coated tongue out at the older teen.

"Put that away or put it to good use," he grumbled in response.

Sora grinned, curling the offending tongue toward the wisps of cotton candy without taking his eyes off Riku's face. The older boy's pallid complexion was turning slightly pink, a phenomenon Sora found himself rather fascinated by. Drunk Riku wouldn't know shame if it started doing a strip-tease on a table, and usually it was too dark, or they were too beyond caring, when they were alone.

"In my defense," Riku protested, "I didn't actually throw up. The key word there was _almost_. And we did ride the fucking Gravitron 14 times in a row."

"Aw, poor baby," the brunet teased, bumping their shoulders together. "Ickle Riku. It's okay, the sickly green color of your face matches your eyes."

"Brat." Riku shoved Sora away playfully with a palm straight to the brunet's face, shaking his head. "Watch it, or I'm dragging your sorry ass right onto that ferris wheel."

Sora laughed as he veered haphazardly across the crowded street. They had, at Riku's begging, abandoned the rides in favor of the street fair. Booth after booth of vendors peddling everything from subscriptions to The Daily Dusk to hand-woven friendship bracelets to the latest trendy hats lined the closed-off street, crowds of people milling in and out of open tents.

They did little more than wander aimlessly, Sora picked at this spun sugar confection, Riku pointedly avoiding the mess of sticky pink continually and teasingly offered to him. Most of the vendors were closing shop – it was pushing 11:00 by now, the majority of the remaining fair-goers were more interested in stupid, lets-ride-the-Gravitron-until-we-puke dares than they were arts and crafts – but Twilight Town was small enough that Sora recognized the occasional merchant here and there. He dragged Riku into the remains of the armory tent, showcasing both antique and replica weapons and armor, and introduced him to Scrooge McDuck, Roxas' boss and the owner of McDuck's Ice Cream Parlor.

Riku seemed content to let the younger brunet lead him around the fairground, admitting eventually that even though he'd gone to school in Twilight Town for over a year now, he'd never explored much further than the streets surrounding the Twilight Tech campus and Axel's few haunts.

Even the stragglers packed up eventually though, leaving the boys to wander back towards the flashing carnival lights flooding the nearby field. Riku spared one wary look at the Zipper before quickly suggesting the midway. Sora, rapidly recognizing that maybe the extra large bundle of cotton candy probably hadn't been entirely necessary, readily agreed.

Which was how they found themselves standing in front of one of the stupidest games known to mankind, Sora staring with rapt attention at the absurdly wonderful moogle-inspired knit hat, complete with dangling red pompom, being lauded as the illustrious grand prize. All he had to do was twist the little metal ring up the length of a larger corkscrew curl of pipe, without letting the metals touch, and he would be the owner of the best hat ever.

"Do you _really_need the hat, Sora?" Riku sighed, watching the brunet fail at his third consecutive attempt less than five seconds into the game. He'd spent the last of his money on the last round, nothing but dust mites and an inexplicable paperclip left in his wallet.

"Riku," Sora sighed impatiently, like he couldn't believe they were even having this conversation. "Look at it. Look at the hat. Look at the pompom."

"How you fooled Roxas for so long completely alludes me," the older teen groaned, ducking out of range of Sora's elbow to the ribs. He reached into his back pocket and rifled through his wallet, peeling off a few crumpled bills. "If I wind up spending all my money on this stupid game for that stupid hat, you're buying me breakfast every day for the next week."

"I know you have a meal plan," Sora scoffed, hiding his grin behind an innocuous nose rub. "Nice try though."

"Worth a shot," Riku shrugged. He handed his money to the amused-looking game operator, accepting the delicate silver ring in response. "Watch and learn, Sor."

Sora watched, utterly flabbergasted, as Riku carefully, but apparently effortlessly, eased the ring along the proper path until the thing had completely cleared the larger metal design. The silver-haired teen grinned smugly as he handed the ring back to the game operator only seconds before Sora launched himself forward, grabbing Riku in a messy conglomerate of a manly headlock and a glomp.

"How did you do that that was the coolest shit I have ever seen that was so hard and you made it look so easy you must be magic obviously there's no other explanation you must be magic – "

"Sora," Riku laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as the brunet finally took a step back. "It's just a hat."

"Yeah, but you, like, won it. This is a _hard earned_hat, and that makes it way cooler. Plus, pompoms," Sora reminded him, stepping up to accept his prize.

"You guys are cute," the booth girl laughed, handing Sora the much-coveted knit hat. "My boyfriend always says these games are rigged and it's not even worth the effort, but," she winked at Sora, "you obviously have much better taste in boyfriends."

Sora froze.

"Ha," he said weakly. "Yeah…"

_You guys are cute. Together. She meant together. Like dating together. Boyfriends. _

Because this was totally a fucking _date_. Totally and completely, and not only was it a date, but it was, whether by accident or by design, a completely cheesy and cliché and straight out of some stupid romantic comedy perfect first date kind of date. There had been getting to know you chats and teasing banter, kind of shared food, intimate rides together, a freaking exchange of outerwear. For fuck's sake, Riku had just pulled the quintessential perfect boyfriend move, winning the doe-eyed young girl a future token of their perfect first date together.

God, now _he_ was going to puke. What were they _doing_? This couldn't be a date. Sora couldn't be on a date with Riku, absolutely not. There was no way he was ready for this, no way he was ready to have him sprung on him just like that. He was going to ruin everything, they were going to ruin everything, they were going to try to coerce lust into something like a relationship and they were going to screw everything up in the process and this was the _stupidest_idea either one of them had ever had. Ever.

He was vaguely aware of the girl saying bye to him, of Riku shuttling him off and of himself pulling none-too-gently away from the older boy's grip on his arm, but the surrounding carnival games, the surrounding everything but the hat clutched in his hand and the indent in the hoody sleeve where Riku's hand had been, really, was lost to him.

They'd crossed the line they never should have crossed, without Sora even realizing it. They were going to ruin it all, it was already going all downhill and gathering speed, and Sora couldn't do anything to stop it, even if he had been entirely sure that he wanted to. Some things couldn't be undone, and this was one of those things.

* * *

><p>Roxas' POV<p>

* * *

><p>Roxas stared. And stared. And stared some more. He didn't mean to – really. He just…couldn't help it. He couldn't. Because this couldn't possibly be real, and this couldn't possibly be Twilight Town, and Axel couldn't possibly have been right.<p>

But it was. And it was. And he was. And Roxas was standing on the balls of his feet in an absolutely sold out, 100% packed to the rafters theatre in the downtown district that looked like a casting department for a drag show. Everywhere he looked, from Axel's friends in the seats right next to him to the crowd still lined up outside the theatre to the ushers directing the motley crew of miscreants to their seats. All he could see was fishnets and spandex, lace and feathers, corsets and tuxedo jackets and party hats and negligees and tighty-whiteys and metallic gold pants and high heels and French maids. Boys and girls and boys dressed like girls and girls dressed like boys and grown men and women and criminologists and doctors in wheelchairs and Roxas was dizzy with turning his head this way and that, but he couldn't stop if he tried.

"It's kind of incredible, isn't it?"

The blond glanced down, feeling rather like a little kid caught snooping through his older brother's porn. Demyx was grinning up at him from his seat on the other side of Zexion, though, and his aquamarine eyes were just a little wonderstruck too.

"It's…I mean…" His mouth was clearly just all around failing him tonight, but at least for now Roxas could blame it on the pair of shots he'd ripped before leaving the dorms. Not enough to get drunk, he wanted to remember this, but enough to feel just a little loose at the seams. "Is this real life?"

"Questionable at best," Demyx agreed. "But that's Rocky Horror for you. Breeding ground for freaks and fools, that's for sure."

"More importantly," Luxord interjected, leaning over Axel on Roxas' right. "Has anyone taught him the essentials? He's obviously going to be branded a virgin – no offense mate, but those doe eyes aren't fooling anyone – but at least we can prepare him a bit."

Roxas spluttered without any real sounds coming out, ears burning bright red as his brain stayed stuck on the high-flying v-card Luxord had just dealt him.

"Of course you are." Larxene smirked.

"In Rocky Horror terms," Axel said quickly, jumping in before Larxene could say anything else, "anyone who's never been to a show before is considered a Rocky Horror virgin. There's a devirginizing ritual, but it's always different, so we really can't warn you, even if we wanted to."

"You're scaring the shit out of him," Zexion frowned. Roxas, suddenly too nervous to care, spared the slate-haired teen on his left a desperately grateful look.

"It's always stupid shit meant to be varying levels of dirty, sexy, and slutty, while really just being embarrassing for the virgins and hilarious for the audience," Zexion explained carefully, watching Roxas through oversized black-framed glasses. "At least one girl will flash all of us on purpose, and at least one other one on accident."

"You take all the fun out of things, mate," Luxord sighed.

"Shh," Xigbar scolded the drummer. "That's the most I've ever heard Zexion say at once. Don't discourage him."

"You're all assholes," Roxas grumbled. Axel and Demyx laughed, Zexion joining in at the look on Xigbar's face.

"Speaking of," Demyx said between snickers. "That's one of the main cues you need to know. Whenever they say Brad, or Brad Majors, you say 'asshole.' And Janet's 'slut.'"

"Asshole, slut," the senior reiterated. "Okay, what else?"

"When in doubt, question the existence, or lack thereof, of the criminologist's neck," Zexion suggested.

"Magenta and Riff-Raff," Larxene suggested, "should be encouraged to have elbow sex at all times."

"Elbow sex," Roxas repeated flatly.

Larxene grinned.

"Er. Okay," he nodded. "What about that? What's all that shit for?" He pointed to the shopping bag at Axel's feet, stuffed to the brim with what looked like, for some god-unknown reason, newspapers, rolls of toilet paper, and a ten pound bag of white rice.

"Those are your props," Axel bent over double, tugging the bag open a little wider and revealing toast, noisemakers, and a feather boa. "During specific scenes people throw toast or toilet paper or rice. And during one song the back row's supposed to spray water guns, so…paper newspaper umbrellas."

"You'll know when it's time," Demyx promised, correctly interpreting Roxas' vacant stare. "It's pretty easy, everyone around you knows when something's coming, so you'll see people start to pull out their noisemakers or unroll their toilet paper."

"This is actually going to be the weirdest fucking thing I've ever done, isn't it?"

Nobody spoke for a moment, exchanging looks over Roxas' head as they considered their answers.

"Darling," Luxord said finally, arching one blond eyebrow at the high schooler, "this is Rocky Horror."

And really, that was that.

* * *

><p>Sora's POV<p>

* * *

><p>The air between them tasted a little sharp. Just a bit. Just enough that Sora couldn't help but flinch a little away from the taller boy walking alongside him, busying himself with the hat still clutched between his fingers<p>

They weren't friends. Nothing was more painfully obvious than that realty right now: they were not friends. They got drunk together every now and then, when Kairi got bored with high school. They used each other when they were bored and lonely and horny. Superfluous drunk bullshit and candy-coated pillow talk do not a friendship make, and obviously their attempt at actually being friends, or potentially something more, was a reigning terror of a disaster.

And now there was this awkward tightness settled between them, and it was bizarre to Sora, the way silence could ring in his ears like this even with the overwhelming cacophony of noise surrounding them. This was his fault. His panic attack. He should do something to fix it, some fumbling attempt at salvaging, if not their whatever-you-want-to-ship-it-as, at the very least this evening. He should.

Except for the way his stomach lining seemed to suddenly be made of lead, and the lead seemed to be creeping up his esophagus and sealing around his throat and wrapping around his tongue and the ability to speak had abandoned him and…

He knew this was going to happen. Knew he shouldn't have fucked with the status quo.

"Sora?"

The brunet glanced up, not to the left, where Riku was still silently walking, but right, where Hayner Dincht stood, smiling a little tentatively, one hand curled around the back of his neck.

"Hey man."

"Hey." Hayner shifted his weight slightly, looking back and forth between Sora and Riku. It was…weird. He and Hayner had always been on relatively good terms – they'd both been athletes since they were kids, and they'd spent most of high school swimming around in the same broader social circle. They just…didn't usually go out of their way to talk to each other. Sora always felt a little bitter on Roxas' behalf, and Hayner, whether he was reading Sora's reaction or genuinely felt it, always had this guilty, sheepish way about him.

"What's good?" Sora tried. He could feel Riku's eyes on him, watching them with ill-disguised interest.

"Nothing new," Hayner shrugged. "Wrapping up the fall season, looking forward to some time off before the spring matches pick up."

"Word." The brunet nodded. "Our pre-season just finished, the season starts officially the week after Christmas. I'm bored as shit now, so it'll be nice to get back in the water full time."

"I feel yah," Hayner agreed. "I give it a week before I'm picking fights. Way to restless to sit still, you know?"

"Oh yeah," he laughed. "Guess your usual sparring partner's up and left for the Garden, hasn't he?"

Something strange flickered across the blond's face, just long enough for Sora to notice, but not read it. He grinned at Sora before the brunet could question it, rolling his eyes and chuckling. "Yeah, who knew the bastard was actually smart enough to get into the SeeD academy." He shrugged. "Dunno though. I'm thinking maybe Saïx Claymore might make a nice practice target. Someone to smack around with a struggle bat."

Sora cocked his head to the side, studying the struggle fighter. Hayner was teling him something – he just wasn't sure what.

"He deserves it."

"Exactly," Hayner nodded. "Anyway. Pence and Olette are waiting. You going to Selphie's party Monday?"

"Yeah, for sure." Sora could feel Riku's stare burning holes in the side of his head, but there was no possible way he was getting the older boy involved in this conversation. He was confused enough as it was, no need to add Riku to the muddle.

"Sweet. See you there, bro. And hey, tell Rox I said hi, yeah?"

Hayner didn't wait for a response, waving over his shoulder as Sora stared somewhat dumbstruck after the blond.

"What was that about?" Riku asked finally. The younger boy turned to his rather rejected-looking (oh god) date. If Sora had been less distracted, less baffled, he probably would have found it unfortunately precious, the way Riku was peering through his bangs with those big ocean eyes so wide and confused. His own expression, minus the rejection, probably didn't look that different.

"I have no fucking clue."

* * *

><p>Roxas' POV<p>

* * *

><p><strong><strong>"So? Have we scarred you for life, or completely blown your mind?"

Roxas blinked, lifting his chin to stare up at the redhead towering over him, watching him expectantly.

There was toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Somehow, he had wound up with a lapful of not just his, but also Axel and Zexion's soggy newspapers. His fingers were sticky with bubble mix. He would be picking pieces of rice out of his hair for at least the next week.

The broad grin on his face was so wide it was threatening to crack his cheekbones.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "That was just…what the fuck was that?"

Axel laughed, bending down to pluck a piece of rice from one of Roxas' blond spikes.

"So you liked it?" Demyx guessed.

"Fuck yeah," Roxas insisted immediately. He shook his head slightly, dislodging a few more grains of rice, before pushing himself to his feet. He felt high. Well. He'd never actually been high before, so he didn't really have much basis for comparison, but this was what he imagined life was like when you were high, or maybe this was what people meant when they said someone was punch-drunk. "I mean, it was _definitely_ the weirdest fucking thing I've ever done, but also _brilliant_."

Axel returned the broad grin with an equally enthusiastic one, slinging one arm over his bare shoulders as their group slowly began making their way out of the theater. The rest of them were babbling in that 3:00 AM, post-performance-delirium kind of way, but Roxas still couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the theatre, and the lingering occupants, surrounding them.

"This is really just fucking unbelievable," he mused quietly. Axel, still impossibly close to him, glanced down again, watching the blond from slightly-smudged black-rimmed eyes.

"What is?"

"This whole thing." Roxas flailed his arms expressively, gesturing around them. "This…I mean, look at this place. Look at that guy." He nodded to a kid walking several yards in front of them, wearing lace stockings, combat boots, and a sheer women's nighty. "If anyone I knew tried to wear that anywhere remotely close to my school, they wouldn't survive much longer than the first period bell."

Axel was quiet, red lips pursed as he eyed the boy in question. He couldn't have been much older than Roxas, definitely wasn't older than Axel, and yet he held himself completely differently than the small blond.

"Is it really that bad?" he asked finally.

Roxas frowned contemplatively, every sense still soaking up the very last inches of the night while he could. It took him a minute or two to respond to the redhead's question, but Axel waited patiently.

"It's not…85% of the time it's fine. You know, I mean, it could be a lot worse. I have friends, I do fine in all my classes, I like most of my teachers. I even occasionally leave my room, and keep the angsty emo music to a general minimum."

"And the other 15% of the time?"

Roxas shrugged, Axel's arm heavy and warm across his shoulders. He didn't know how to say 'an unmitigated nightmare' without sounding like a histrionic asshole.

Axel left him alone to think, guiding the younger teen towards the exit as they trailed after the boisterous group of delinquents the redhead called his friends. Roxas shifted his attention to them, to Zexion batting away Demyx' grabby hands and Larxene and Luxord attempting to link elbows instead of holding hands. To Xigbar, abandoning whatever surfer stereotype he may or may not have been conforming to long enough to don a three piece suit and suffer through disparaging comments about his neck all night.

To Axel, standing next to him with a small smile on his tired face, like he knew what Roxas was thinking. Or maybe he was thinking the same thing.

"You need this, don't you?"

Roxas didn't have to ask what this was. _This_ was more nights like this. _This_ was more time with people like this. _This_was something other than friends who divided their time between worrying about him and protecting him and didn't have much time left to actually just be friends with him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah. That'd be pretty…yeah."

Axel tightened his grip on Roxas' shoulders, pulling the smaller blond flush up against him and ruffling the blond spikes playfully.

"You got it, kid. Welcome to the freak show."

And Roxas, somewhere amidst the bizarre combination of awe and melancholy, had the lurking suspicion that something absolutely fucking beautiful just happened.

* * *

><p>Sora's POV<p>

* * *

><p>"So…are we going to talk about this, or are you just going to keep ignoring me?"<p>

Sora aimed a particularly vicious kick at a pebble on the street in front of him. His most recent nervous habit, burrowing continuously deeper into the material of whatever sweatshirt he happened to be wearing at the time (ie. Riku's yellow zip-up), suddenly seemed entirely ineffective when the defense mechanism in questioned belonged to the very person he was defending himself from.

Despite Sora's grumbled protests that he was perfectly capable of walking home by himself, as he was neither six nor a girl, Riku had insisted on walking him home, at least as far as they had to walk together before Riku could veer off in the direction of campus. The brunet had finally relented, albeit as ungraciously as a spoiled cow who hadn't gotten enough birthday presents, and promptly spend the first ten minutes of the walk ignoring the older teen.

He didn't even know why he was mad, really. He had nothing to be mad about, no one to be mad at but himself, and he definitely shouldn't be taking it out on Riku, who had, despite Sora's obvious distress, made every effort to salvage the night that the brunet himself hadn't been able to manage. He just…he couldn't believe they were so _stupid_. There was no coming back from this.

"Sora!"

Sora jerked his head up, swinging around to stare at the other teen now standing still in the middle of the alleyway. He'd never heard Riku snap at someone like that, voice crackling with a whip-like force through the air between them. There was anger and frustration sharpening the edges of the tone, sure, but it was the overwhelming _hurt_that made Sora blink suddenly stinging eyes, tearing his gaze away from Riku's fierce aquamarine stare.

"I…no," he said quietly, clearing his throat. "No, I mean. I'm not ignoring…I'm just."  
>He scrubbed one hand down the length of his face and back up again, pushing through the mop of chocolate brown spikes crowning his head. He could still feel Riku's eyes on him, watching his every move, outlining his every word. "This whole thing just kind of…snuck up on me, and now I don't – I'm sorry." Sora stumbled over his words uselessly, tongue feeling thick and heavy and entirely defunct in his mouth. Nothing was coming out right. Not that he knew what 'right' even would be if he could manage to formulate the words, but whatever it was it wasn't the rambling, mumbling nonsense he was spewing at the moment.<p>

"You don't have to apologize," Riku said quietly.

Sora shook his head, opening his mouth to interrupt, but Riku cut him off before he could even get the words out.

"No, really," he insisted. "You don't. I mean, I get it."

"Riku…"

Sora lifted his gaze in time to see the older boy shrug, the expression hiding under his silver bangs belying the dismissive way he brushed Sora's words, or lack thereof away. He focused on the air somewhere in between them, measuring the distance as he contemplated the space.

"Listen, I'm just gonna go," Riku said finally, taking a small step forward. It was only then that Sora realized where they were; dark and secluded, a mostly-unused alleyway that emptied out right next to the subway station Riku would need to get him back to the dorms.

"I just." He took another step forward, and now there were barely two feet between them and Sora couldn't take his eyes off Riku if he tried. Another careful step forward. "I mean, you can stop me…"

Riku reached up, calloused fingertips brushing over Sora's cheek, thumb smoothing over the length of his jaw. Sora didn't stop him, _wouldn't _stop him, couldn't even if he wanted to, curling the fingers of one hand into the unbuttoned collar of Riku's henley shirt as one, or maybe both of them, closed the distance between them.

There was something gut-wrenching about the way Riku kissed him. It lacked the sloppy urgency or the lethargic warmth of their usual, nor did it remotely resemble the delicate way Riku'd handled him after Roxas had walked in on them. No, this was entirely new, entirely different, simultaneously exceedingly gentle and hauntingtly desperate – the foolish refrain of the hopelessly devoted.

It was a goodbye.

Riku pulled back first, separating their lips far enough for them to both take shaky breaths, but Sora's fingers around the back of his neck and the hand still clutched in his collar made it difficult for the silver-haired teen to move much further away. They stood there, unmoving, foreheads pressed together, eyes still closed, breath mingling as they shared the same air.

"See you around?"

Sora nodded, letting his hand slide away from the pale skin of Riku's neck and releasing his grip on the taller boy as Riku took a step back. He didn't look back once he'd turned away, keeping his back to Sora as he stepped out of the mouth of the alleyway, towards the dark train entrance across the way.

Sora watched him go until long after even the soft reflection of moonlit silver hair was swallowed by the darkness.

* * *

><p>Quoted my (second) favorite book in here. Will actually pledge my undying devotion to you if you recognize it. For a slightly less obscure challenge, lets see if you can figure out which Rocky Horror characters Axel, Roxas, Demyx, Zexion, Xigbar, Luxord, and Larxene dressed up as?<p>

Also, if you were unsatisfied with the amount of actual Rocky Horror in this chapter, I direct you towards A Spot of Bother's "Over at the Frankenstein Place." And if you don't believe me that Axel is sex on a stick in that particular costume, then I direct you right here: http: / / nijuuni . deviantart . com/ art/ HOSHIT-FANSERVICE-MEME-105253233

Although frankly, I like to assume you've all been to both of those places, because really, they're both necessary to our way of life.

Until next time, kidlets, love you all to itty bitty bits and pieces.


	6. You're So Last Summer

The thing about chapter 6 was chapter 5. In my billion page outline of this story, chapter 5 was supposed to: a. have the date go surprisingly well with a really sweet kiss after Riku dropped Sora off back at home. Sora's freakout wasn't going to happen until probably chapter 7. b. was supposed to end with Roxas finding out that Luxord has an open pool placing bets on when and how Demyx and Zexion were going to confess their obvious mutual obsession to each other. This mostly meant that chapter 6 was going to a. start with Demyx' POV and b. explore Riku's side of the date.

Obviously THAT didn't happen.

So there were a few weeks of 'oh shit now what,' which eventually turned into a decently solid writer's block. Which is usually fine, cause dude, I can deal with that shit. But the writer's block started getting buried under other little things, and individually they were small and insignificant but when combined into this conglomerate of Writer Problems it turned into the massive, gaping vortex of I Am the Worst Writer on the Planet This Trite Bullshit is a Fucking Joke Everything Sucks I Have No Future I Should Probably Just Die Now and Get it Over With. Even _thinking _about this chapter made me nauseas and I threw several massive (and silent, unless you happened to get caught in a text conversation with me, in which case poor you), histrionic hissy fits. It was ugly, nasty, and a parade of stupid.

Eventually, of course, the universe and various people I owe my soul to crawled out of the woodwork to give me a well-deserved punch in the face.

Thus ends my pathetic excuse for why it took me three months to write 20 pages. To make up for both the delay and the drama, and if you're at all interested in hearing about things from Axel and Riku's side of the world, you should go check out the first chapter of _Songs of Dissension_, which I posted last week and is disgustingly full of Axel and Riku drinking, cuddling, and just bromancing all over each other in general as the cry into their alcoholism over Roxas and Sora.

I fucking love you guys to the end of the universe and back.

(_I've also, in my spare time, thrown literally every remaining ounce of my soul into a Soriku two-shot that I may tentatively (and prematurely) claim to be absolutely my favorite piece of fanfiction I've ever written. I've never been one to push my own stories, but seriously, it would mean a whole lot to me if you guys would keep an eye out for "It Had to Be You."_)

**Things I Own**: A MacBookPro with every song Roxas and Axel mention in my iTunes library. My (right, as opposed to left) eyebrow pierced. Black framed reading glasses. Actually a lot of the stuff in this chapter is thoughts and memories. I own a lot of those. Sundays at the library and gushing about band rivalries and cuddly life chats in bed with my best friends. Shut up I'm feeling really nostalgic right now.

**Things I Don't Own**: my soul. But I'm working on getting that back. My heart. I gave it to you guys months ago and it's yours keep it. I'm supposed to say these boys…but I'm starting to get pretty possessive of them. So. Er.

**Songs**: "You're So Last Summer" by Taking Back Sunday, "American Riviera" by Tommy and the High Pilots, a handful of others that I would give things away by revealing so I will disclaim them in chapter 7.

* * *

><p><strong>III. November<strong>

**Chapter 6: **"You're So Last Summer" by Taking Back Sunday

* * *

><p>Roxas' POV<p>

* * *

><p>"I genuinely have no idea what the fuck is going on here."<p>

Roxas slumped forward until his forehead hit the table with a dull thud, landing only inches away from the sharp edge of his MacBook and narrowly avoiding smashing the bridge of his glasses into the thick wood. Naminé, clearly having no patience for Roxas' histrionics, kicked him under the table without so much as glancing up from her own steady tap tap tapping away at her laptop.

"Maybe you should have paid attention to the college counseling session yesterday," she scolded, "instead of texting Axel the whole time."

"Psht," Roxas scoffed, rolling his head back and forth across the table in a lazy version of a head shake, "don't act like you weren't texting Marly, I saw your phone in your lap."

The clatter of her nails against the keyboard faded.

"I wasn't texting Marly," the blonde insisted. There was something about the way she said it that made Roxas heave himself semi-upright again, just high enough to peer over the edge of his computer at her.

"We had a little bit of a fight," Naminé admitted. "He got all cranky about the fact that his ex is dating someone, but why should he care? We've been together for eight months, what difference does it make if Larxene's got a new boyfriend."

"Larxene?" Roxas sat up a little straighter. "I know her. She came to Rocky Horror with Luxord."

"She's dating Luxord?" Naminé raised an eyebrow. "Kairi's gonna be pissed, she thinks that Port Royale accent is incurably sexy."

"I thought Kairi had a thing for Riku. Or Sora. Or one of them. Or something."

Naminé laughed as loudly as she dared in the low buzz of the library. "Sora? Sora might as well be Kairi's brother. Come on, don't tell me you buy into all that shit everyone always says about them. And apparently she's given up on Riku, something about him being a 'big fat mopey idiot.'" She added air quotes around the last part, raising her voice half an octave to mimic Kairi.

Roxas snorted. If Riku was a big fat mopey idiot, he wondered what Kairi had to say about Sora right now, because _he'd _been nothing but a lumpy yellow waste of space the last two weeks. Naminé was way too perceptive for her own good, though, and Roxas wasn't about to bring up the connection between the two angsty bastards.

"All boys are big fat mopey idiots," he reminded her. The blond was not above shamelessly bashing his own gender if it made Naminé giggle. "Do you want to talk about yours?"

Naminé narrowed her eyes at him, frowning. "You're trying to distract me," she accused. "It's not going to work. This is 'write your college essay' time, not 'gossip about everyone's love lives' time. Unless you want me to ask you about yours."

He did not. He and Naminé had hashed it out quite thoroughly already, the Sunday _and _the Monday after Rocky Horror, and several less-intensive times since. He did not need to reiterate for the hundredth time that he and Axel were better off Just Being Friends for now, while Naminé repeated again that she thought that was a Stupid Idea.

She was probably right, because Roxas was probably going to fail miserably in a hopelessly masochistic kind of way, but he was standing by the unspoken agreement between them. Besides, even if he disagreed, Axel had seemed pretty damn certain about it, and while he was probably just letting the poor little high school kid down gently, Roxas wasn't going to make the situation unnecessarily awkward if he could avoid it.

This train of thought, though, while both fascinating and easily something he could go another round with Naminé over, was wholly unhelpful at the moment.

"I just don't know what to write about," he whined. "What am I supposed to do? Tell me."

"Roxas," she sighed. "I'm writing an essay about analyzing people's _shoes_. I really don't think I'm the best person to ask for advice. What did Axel write about?"

"The emotional component of getting a tattoo and the function of the tattoo artist as a pseudo-therapist," Roxas grumbled. Asshole.

"Oh that's good," Naminé groaned. "Why am I writing about shoes? What are you writing about?"

"That's the whole point, I have no idea," Roxas pouted back at her. He'd been staring at a blank word document on and off all afternoon, desperately trying to conjure something that wasn't boring, trite, overdone, and tired. He was supposed to be good at this, this whole creative writing thing. It was what he wanted to go to school for. He damn well couldn't claim intention as an English major while applying with a generic application essay.

"Kairi wrote about moving around a lot as a kid and the influence it had on her," Naminé offered. "It was good, not too cookie cutter, but nothing they haven't read before."

Roxas nodded. "I think Sora's writing about the experience of being on a team versus actually being part of a team, or something like that that sounds fancy and interesting but's really pretty basic."

"Does Sora even know where he wants to go?"

Roxas shook his head. Sora didn't even know what he wanted for dinner these days, let alone where he wanted to spend the next four years of his life. Their parents were getting antsy about it – he was running out of time – but Sora couldn't be assed to care.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Naminé said quietly. Roxas knew what was coming. It was the only thing that was ever coming in conversations these days, like every day that passed after the first day of senior year slowly stole their ability to discuss anything that wasn't college or graduation.

"That for the first time in your life so far you can't say with any certainty exactly where you'll be this time next year?" Roxas guessed.

The blonde girl nodded.

"Two months ago…" Roxas trailed off, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Two months ago he would have been chomping at the bit to get the fuck outta dodge, blowing out of here so fast that he would have left shell-shocked passer-bys with windswept hair in his wake. Two months ago he had a single friend, a twin brother, and a friend-by-association to his name. Two months ago he didn't use his phone more than half a dozen times a day, had never heard of a hole in the wall music store called Arpeggio's, had never seen Rocky Horror. Had never considered the possibility that living on the outskirts of the self-proclaimed Theater District might have actually meant something significant.

Two months ago he was ready to go to the far side of the city, hell, the far side of the _world_, to get away from here.

He sat upright and turned away from his computer, and the knowing look Naminé was leveling him with, under the pretense of cracking his back and surveying the room around them. The library was decently crowded for a Sunday afternoon; more than one of the study tables were filled with Twilight Northstudents. Roxas had been preoccupied with the one at the far corner, with the brunette girl with her back to him and the blond Struggler that had caught him staring at least twice.

"What're..." Naminé paused, following both Roxas' gaze and subject change. "Hm. How's that going?"

"It's weird," Roxas shrugged. It was. "He's been – I don't know – nice, I guess. Says hi to me in the hallways at school and whatever, got all up in Saïx' face again the other day. It's just weird."

"Well it's just totally out of the blue, right?" Naminé frowned thoughtfully, discretely turning over her shoulder to peek at the table Hayner and Olette were sitting at. She and Roxas hadn't really been friends when he was still in his group with Hayner, Pence, and Olette, but she'd been around enough to know that ship had supposedly sailed.

"Completely," the blond agreed. "I have no idea where it's coming from, or why. It's…whatever. I'm sure he's got a reason, and I'm sure he'll make it obvious sooner or later."

"Probably sooner," Naminé nodded. "He's never been one for subtlety, has he?"

Roxas snorted, shaking his head.

"Speaking of sooner," his best friend prodded, arching a delicate eyebrow at him in a look that could only mean trouble. "How about that essay?"

Roxas groaned and let his forehead fall back down with a thud.

* * *

><p>"What about 'Here (In Your Arms)?'"<p>

"Hellogoodbye?" Axel asked. "Why is that even a question?"

"Maybe people had a deprived childhood and don't know it," Roxas argued defensively, pouting slightly as he dragged the file onto his playlist.

"Well then you'll educate them," Axel sighed, flipping over a page of his magazine. "Isn't that the whole point of this playlist?"

"Maybe," Roxas consented. "Mostly it's to alleviate the fact that you're boring as fuck and doing nothing to entertain me, you bastard."

Axel reached up and flicked the blond's ear without even pulling his eyes away from an interview with _The Downtown Fiction_. Roxas laughed, swatting at the redhead's hand.

They'd been sitting there for at least an hour now, Axel behind the counter under the pretense of manning Arpeggio's register, Roxas perched on the Plexiglas surface with his laptop in his lap. Axel had texted him in the middle of last period, whining pathetically about how slow the store was and how very, very bored he'd been, and Roxas had shown up 45 minutes later armed with backlogged issues of AP and a handful of empty thumb drives.

This was the third time this week he'd wound up at Arpeggio's, and the eighth time this month. It was quickly becoming routine, almost enough so that Roxas didn't feel the need to wait for Axel to invite him, as he had nervously done the first few times.

"What else?" Roxas mused, frowning at his computer. He had _dozens _of appropriate songs, and it was all he could think of on the way over here, and now here he was, staring at a mostly blank screen. Typical.

"Hmm…"

Oh crap, Roxas could practically _hear _Axel's grin in the air.

"I'M A BARBIE GIRL, IN A BARBIE WOOOOORLD."

"Ugh no," Roxas groaned, coming dangerously close to dropping his laptop in his effort to slap both palms over his ears.

"LIFE IN PLASTIC, IT'S FANTASTIC!" Axel continued loudly, barely-contained laughter under his intentionally warbly, off-pitch singing voice.

"Jesus fuck," the blond whined, shoving one shoulder up against his ear so he could keep his grip on his precarious computer. "I thought you were supposed to be good at that singing shit."

Silence followed that pronouncement. Roxas waited with bated breath, wincing in anticipation as he gingerly lifted his head enough to uncover his ears.

"_Here I go. I'll scream my lungs out and try to get to you, you are my only one_."

Huh. That was actually – huh.

"_I let go, there's just no one that gets me like you do, you are my only, my only one_," Roxas sang back. It wasn't nearly as good as Axel, who had almost sounded better than the damn band, but there was still a low whistle from behind him.

"Not bad, grasshopper," Axel commented. "Not bad." It was a compliment, mostly, but Roxas was almost certain there was a hint of challenge creeping into the redhead's tone.

Sure enough, not even a minute went by before he heard from behind him, spoken this time: "you could be my punk rock princess, I would be your garage band king."

He laughed even as he rolled his eyes, not bothering to turn around as he scrolled through his library towards S.

"Are you going to tell me how you just don't fit in, and how you're gonna be something?" the blond teased. "Come on, Ax, boys like you are a dime a dozen."

"Yeah, well you're a touch overrated," Axel shot back. He slammed his magazine shut with a flutter of glossy pages, shoving it aside and planting both hands on the countertop with two dull thuds.

"Is that what you call tact?" Roxas snorted. "You're a subtle as a brick in the small of my back, so lets end this call, and end this conversation."

Axel hoisted himself up onto the counter, legs dangling off the opposite side from the blond, close enough that Roxas could feel the older teen's shoulder shaking as he tried not to laugh.

"Twofold burn, Rox. Coming back at a TBS quote with an insult from a Brand New song, that's clever," the redhead nodded approvingly. He reached around behind him for the edge of the counter, curling his fingers over the metal lip and resting his weight back on his palms until he and Roxas were face to face.

"I'm always clever," Roxas insisted. He was fastidiously avoiding the part of his brain that was fixated on the (scant) distance between Axel's right hand and his own right knee. "Admittedly, though, I don't get it."

"You don't know the rivalry story? Taking Back Sunday and Brand New? 'Seventy Times 7' and 'There's No I in Team'?" He sounded aghast, but mostly delighted, like he couldn't wait for the opportunity to tell Roxas everything he knew about everything.

"No?" Roxas shrugged.

"Oh man, okay, so Jesse Lacey and John Nolan were like, best friends, right? Like they grew up together, went to the same high school, and they were hardcore into the music scene and shit, and when Taking Back Sunday was getting put together they were both asked to be in it. Anyway, they had this massive, totally explosive falling out because John slept with Jesse's girlfriend, and Jesse left the band to go off and form a brand new band, and, you know, 'as if it happening wasn't enough, I gotta go and write a song just to remind myself how bad it sucked.' Supposedly "you're as subtle as a brick in the small of my back, so lets end this call and end this conversation," was the last thing Jesse said to John before hanging up on him."

"So, 'they say best friends means friends forever,' versus 'best friends means you pulled the trigger, best friends means you get what you deserved?'"

"Yes exactly!" Axel cried enthusiastically.

"You," Roxas sighed, rolling his eyes, "are actually a massive geek." He knew, based on the smirk he received in lieu of a good solid dead arm, that the redhead had correctly interpreted Roxas' confession of interest.

"Yeah whatever," he sighed. "It's still cool and you know it. I think they should go on a tour together and call it the Rivalry Tour and sell shirts that say 'There's No I in Team' and jerseys with the number 70x7 on the back and dueling stages and wouldn't that be _awesome_?"

"A massive, massive geek," Roxas qualified, grinning. He added the songs all the same, Axel twisting around to look over his shoulder at the playlist.

"You're still missing like, the classic high school jam," Axel commented.

"What?"

"This song," Axel started, straightening again to watch Roxas' face. "I'm telling you, when I was in high school you walk up to anyone in the school and 4 out of 5 people know, at the very least, the words to the chorus."

"Well?" Roxas prompted, glancing up to meet vivid green eyes head-on. Axel didn't flinch, didn't blink, didn't look away as he sang the essential line to the teenage love anthem.

"_My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me, so won't you kill me, so I die happy?"_

"My heart is yours to fill or burst. To break or bury, or wear as jewelry, whichever you prefer."

The silence that followed Roxas' almost involuntary response lasted barely seconds, but also possibly days. Axel just sat there, looking at him with that knowing little half-smile that was more in his eyes than on his lips, and in those _barely seconds_ Roxas must have reminded himself a couple hundred times that they had decided to be _friends_.

"Grand Theft Autumn."

"Huh?" Roxas blinked, and just like that it was gone. They were back, sitting on the counter at Arpeggio's in this newly minted style of theirs, holed up from the real world in their own little reality of music and lyrics, and nothing was weird and Axel's hand wasn't a hair's width away from his leg and Axel's eyes weren't an inhumanely possible shade of green and everything was fine.

"Fall Out Boy," Axel reiterated. "You know, pre-Sugar We're Going Down? Which should probably be on there too, I don't know about you but that song was my shit man."

"Oh yeah," Roxas agreed. He already had Sugar on the playlist, but Grand Theft Autumn was a necessity that he couldn't believe he had missed. Sora would have killed him, he was such a little FOB fan back in the day. It was Cloud's fault, passing down his friends' music to his younger brothers when everyone else in the sixth grade was listening to the Backstreet Boys. It didn't matter that most of the lyrics went right over their heads, knowing nothing about love and heartbreak and what, exactly, teen spirit smelled like; they ate it up anyway.

"What about All Hail the Heartbreaker? I know maybe not everyone knows it, but it would feel wrong to leave it off a playlist of songs I grew up to," the blond mused. He had abandoned his oversized library in favor of perusing playlists, resolutely watching the lists move across the screen instead of looking at Axel.

Axel snorted with laughter. "Oh my god speaking of, apparently Demyx the other day walked in on Riku doing a full-out, balls to the wall performance of All Hail in front of the mirror...except he had headphones on and didn't realize the entire floor could hear him singing."

"Shut up," Roxas laughed. "No way. What did Demyx do?"

"Started filming, obviously," Axel chuckled. "Reeks didn't notice until halfway through 'Staplegunned.'"

"That's fucking priceless," the blond grinned, dragging both Spill Canvas songs to the 'Sounds of a PunkPopEmoRock Childhood.' "You gotta save that for blackmail."

"Dem thinks we should send it to..." Axel trailed off, awkwardly looking away. They had, by mutual unspoken agreement, decided to avoid the disaster that was the Sora and Riku Show, but that didn't mean they didn't slip every now and then.

"I thought Demyx didn't know," Roxas said carefully, instead of saying 'Sora been face-down on his bed for the better part of the last two weeks, listening to nothing but Spill Canvas, Brand New, and Secondhand Serenade,' like he wanted to.

"Well," The redhead frowned, "everyone knows Ri has a massive crush on someone right now. Demyx, being Demyx, is 96% convinced it's Sora. He just doesn't know that Riku's crush is actually fuck buddies gone horribly wrong, he thinks it's a case of unrequited crush on a straight guy. Existentialism on Prom Night."

"Oh shit, yeah," Roxas nodded. "Good call." Good save.

"You realize you're almost double the minimum song count, right?"

"How do you possibly expect me to keep it around 20 songs? It's not like the taxonomy one, where there's an obvious set of guidelines," Roxas scoffed. Honestly, sounds of his childhood limited to 20 songs. He couldn't even imagine how he was going to keep it under fifty.

"You bought that one?" Axel sounded surprised, one eyebrow arching up into his hairline.

"Yeah, why?"

Axel shrugged. "Was wondering where it got to."

"It's good," Roxas nodded. "I have a couple other ones too, Homecoming, and Conversations in Song Titles, and another one…why are you looking at me like that?"

"No, nothing," Axel shrugged. "I didn't know you'd been checking out the playlist bin." He was still looking at Roxas strangely, something brewing in those malachite eyes, head cocked to the side and lips drawn in a contemplative frown. They were seconds away from reaching uncomfortable, a few more inhale-exhale-inhale combos away from Roxas breaking the awkward silence, when Axel cleared his throat and leaned across the blond's lap to grab the shoebox full of thumb drives.

"Here," he mused, rifling through the assorted collection with a purposeful air that gave him perfect license to avoid Roxas' confused expression, "try this one…"

* * *

><p>Sora's POV<p>

* * *

><p>Someone was climbing into his bed with him.<p>

He felt them, hands and knees and feet and fingers and the heavy warmth of another body hovering over his own. For a heart-stopping second he considered the possibility that it was…well. It didn't matter, because it couldn't have been. This person was smaller, lighter. Couldn't have been Roxas, Roxas would have thrown himself bodily as a dead weight on top of Sora's slumped-over face plant, which really only left one option.

He cracked one eye open to catch sight of soft red and warm blue on the pillow next to him. Kairi was simultaneously the last and only person he wanted to see right now, but the latter outweighed the former enough that he wormed one arm out from underneath his ribs and held it out in invitation. She barely hesitated in burrowing in under it, tugging the covers back over them both and snuggling into him.

And the wonderful, wonderful thing about Kairi is that for every moment that she spent being bubbly, loud-mouthed, outgoing Kairi she spent another as his considerate and quiet support, warm and heavy and real against his side.

The silence, though, no matter how comfortable, could only be suffered for so long before Kairi's curiosity got the better of her.

"Wanna talk about it?" she prodded gently.

Sora shook his head, brown spikes sliding messily across both their foreheads.

"Gonna talk about it anyway?" she teased.

The head-shaking morphed slowly into a nod. "Probably," he conceded. "Just…give me a minute."

She gave him ten. It was, typically, because Kairi was a. a girl and b. a goddess and c. knew these kinds of things, exactly what he needed. He shifted them around until he was spooned right up behind her, seamlessly sealed together with his arms around her ribs and her head in the crook of his shoulder, fingers absently teasing the skin on Sora's wrist.

It was that, more than anything else, that broke him. Broke him twice over, really: once for the reminder and once for the reiteration. It was all too reminiscent of nights he would nudge his way through a crowded party and "accidentally" brush light fingertips over pale skin, a ghost of a touch fueled with the thrill of a secret and a promise.

Even more than that, though, it reinforced the fact that, no matter how badly he sometimes wanted it to be, his relationship with Kairi was never going to be anything more than this.

"I went on a date," he said finally. "I think."

"You think?" Kairi repeated. "Did you want it to be a date?"

"I…I didn't at the time?" Sora admitted. Guessed. Maybe. "At least, I thought I didn't? I don't know anymore."

"So try it again," the redhead suggested gently. "Feel it out, see how it goes when you go into it knowing it's a date."

Sora laughed humorlessly. Self-depreciatingly. "I think I successfully ruined any chances of that ever happening."

He could feel her frowning against his bicep, the tug of her downturned lip catching the edge of his sleeve.

"Then you should definitely try. Or at least try talking to her."

Sora opened his mouth to protest, but Kairi cut him off before he could start the desperate excuses.

"No, I'm just saying. She obviously means a lot to you, Sor, whether you realize it or not. Look at you."

The brunet took a deep breath. He'd always been a big fan of the theory of ripping a band-aid off in one fell swoop…until the theory was forced into practice. This one was going to hurt like a bitch, even if he had been preparing for it since the second she crawled into his bed.

"He."

He felt the moment it clicked. The fingers on his forearm froze mid-tap, a sharp suck of air rushing against his skin as Kairi gasped silently. He held his own breath almost as long as she did, bracing himself.

"Statistically," she said slowly, after the longest fucking moment of his entire life, "if one identical twin identifies as gay, there are like 50% odds that both twins do. True facts, they totally did a study on it."

Sora burst out laughing, rolling flat onto his back and using the arm that had been flung over Kairi's ribs to cover his face. Jesus Christ, this was why he loved her so much. He laughed until there was something suspiciously like tears rolling down his cheeks, the hair on his forearm catching the evidence before anyone could confirm it.

"Fuck, Kai," he sighed, scrubbing his arm across his face one last time before turning his head. She'd rolled over onto her other side, head propped up on her hand as she watched him with a small smile. "Needed that."

"You're dumb," she reminded him, "if you actually thought you'd get any less from me."

He should have known better, really. He had, after all, been there when Selphie had told her about Roxas ("Those yellow jeans your brother has on are sick, Sor, think he'd let me borrow them? I could probably pull them off with a belt or two." "Kairi, Roxas is gay." "So?" "So they're probably girls jeans anyway." "So…are you saying he'll let me borrow them?"). And, well.

"I don't…I don't really know what I identify as," he admitted, once he'd calmed down enough to use proper words. "I mean, I've never been particularly attracted to any other guys before. Then again, I've never been this attracted to a girl either."

It felt weirdly good, saying it out loud. Nice. Something he probably should have done months ago. It was just hard, talking to Roxas about it, and no one else knew before now.

"Sora." Kairi sighed exasperatedly. "Look. Honestly? Who cares. Who cares what you call it? What matters is that you obviously like this guy. You've done nothing but mope around like Moaning Myrtle since Hallo…"

Oh.

Shit.

Kairi's eyes bugged out of her head and she sat bolt upright as, yup, the missing piece fell effortlessly into place. He'd expected it to take at least a few minutes longer, honestly, until he noticed that Kairi wasn't looking directly at him anymore. He followed her gaze to where it landed a half-dozen inches up from his far shoulder, right on a worn, slightly dirty yellow…crap.

"Sora," Kairi said slowly. Sweetly. In that voice that made grown men cry and puppies run away and Sora shrink backwards against the offending, not-so-hidden sweatshirt. "Sora, is that Riku's yellow hoody under your pillow."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't a question, which was Sora's defense for why he didn't know how to answer it. Right. Uh. Think fast. Yes. No. Of course not. It was Roxas'. Yup. That one.

"Let me rephrase." She was still using That Voice, the one that meant she was about to open a can of kick-your-ass-all-over-the-place, as she leaned over Sora and pulled the pillow out from under him, unmistakably revealing the offending hoody. "Sora, why is a sweatshirt that usually belongs to the other best friend of mine who, coincidentally, has _also_ been sulking around like a kicked puppy since Halloween, _hidden under your pillow_?"

"Uhhh…" Come on Sora think fast. "I was…cold?"

The first blow of the pillow landing flat against his chest didn't hurt much, but the second assault on the side of his head did. He whined pathetically at her, cringing away from a third blow aimed at his shoulder, and the fourth, until it became unavoidable to avoid Kairi's punctuating each word…

"YOU. WENT. ON. A. DATE. WITH. RIKU. AND. DIDN'T. TELL .ME."

"In my defense," Sora protested, blocking the last of the reign of pillow assault and pouting pathetically at his fiery best friend. "I didn't realize it was a date until I was solidly in the middle of it. In fact, I'm not even sure it was a date."

Kairi was still glaring at him with narrowed blue eyes, hugging the pillow to her chest and settling in in a way that said all too clearly that she wasn't moving from Sora's bed until he explained himself in full.

"Remember that first party you took me to?" he started warily. His fingers were itching to grab the sweatshirt, though whether Sora wanted to pull it on or shove it back out of sight again wasn't quite clear to him.

"Back in June?" she frowned contemplatively. "That one right before school ended? And you had a total panic attack because you had to go to school with that massive…"

She squeaked. _Squeaked_. Fingers flying up to cover her open mouth, blue eyes wide, blush burning over her fair cheeks. Sora grinned in spite of himself, raising his eyebrow in an undeniably Riku-esque fashion as he waited for her to say it.

"Rikugaveyouahickey," Kairi finally squealed, splaying the fingers still pressed against her lips just far enough to allow the words out.

"He gave me a lot more than a hickey," he said bluntly. Sora couldn't help it. The look on Kairi's face was completely worth it, abject shock followed by wide-eyed realization.

"Oh my god he's actually rubbing off on you," she breathed. "How did I not notice that? You never used to be this snarky, and now you're all kinds of sassafrass."

"I am not," he protested. He totally was, and he knew it, and he knew it was Riku's fault. Damn it.

"Are too," Kairi shot back. "Big time. Look at you, you're even pitching a bitch fit the same way he does. Bet you even made the same 'I Am Sad, So Very Very Sad' playlist. Spill Canvas and Brand New."

"There's some Motion City on there too," Sora whined. "And Secondhand Serenade."

"Psht," Kairi scoffed, "L.G. Fuad is his all-time favorite song, and I spent an hour one night talking BlackOut Riku out of getting 'breathe me in I'm yours to keep' tattooed on his ribs."

"That would look weird with the one on his shoulders," he frowned.

Kairi gaped at him.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly. "It's just weird. Not weird that you and him…" she backtracked hastily. "I mean. Not weird that…it's just…you and Riku. _Riku_. I mean…" Kairi bit her lip, alternating between coy and shy as she weighed the options on her tongue.

"So…is he any good?"

Sora laughed until it hurt.

And then he told her everything.

* * *

><p>Roxas' POV<p>

* * *

><p>He was less than a block from Arpeggio, nose buried in a text from Axel that, at first glance, included the words 'Demyx,' 'needles,' and 'be there,' and were therefore cause of due concern, when a hand snaked around his bicep and yanked him backwards.<p>

"You should watch where you're going, Rox, or one day you're going to walk right into something."

Roxas started, jerking his head upright and around to find Hayner Dincht clutching his arm. The other blond's tone was light and teasing, overly friendly for what Roxas particularly thought it should have been, and even though the voice of reason in him was reminding him that _Roxas _had been the one to shove Hayner away, the irrational, irritable part of his stomach squirmed at the feeling of Hayner's fingers on his sleeve.

There was, admittedly, a garbage can almost directly in front of him that he'd been about to walk face-first into, so he supposed Hayner deserved at least a little credit for that.

"Yeah," he agreed, freeing his arm from his old friend's grasp and running his hand through his blond spikes. "Thanks."

"I do what I can," Hayner shrugged, grinning. "You seemed pretty engrossed in that phone, figured you probably wouldn't notice the bin even if it burst into song."

"Just trying to figure out where to meet up with a couple friends," Roxas said. "Some tattoo parlor or something."

"Oh man, you with a tattoo," the taller blond laughed. "Weird thought. Guess you're almost 18 though, yeah? Still, it's way easier to picture you with that eyebrow stud you always said you wanted. Roxas Strife, all inked up."

"It's not…" he scraped the blunt edges of his nails across the back of his neck. This was awkward, why were they even having this conversation? "Not for me. My friend's getting something done I think, I'm just along for the ride."

"That's cool though," Hayner nodded. "I won't keep you. Good to see you though, we should hang out some time. Catch up, you know? It's been a while."

"Uh," Roxas couldn't think of a polite way to say 'hell fucking no,' not with Hayner looking at him with those big brown bambi eyes and a smile still on his tan face. "Yeah, sure."

"Cool. See you around, Rox."

He was gone as quickly as he appeared.

_What the fuck was that_. Roxas turned around bodily to watch Hayner walk off, ambling down the street with both hands in his pockets in the kind of laid-back, relaxed stroll he never would have seen coming from the energetic blond he used to know. Who the fuck was this kid crawling out of the woodwork and re-appearing in Roxas' life like he'd just been away on vacation for a few weeks?

Roxas was still mulling it over when he shoved his way into Arpeggio's, not quite slamming the door but certainly making enough of an entrance that both Axel and Demyx fell silent where they'd been gabbing away at the counter. Demyx' appearance somewhat explained Axel's rambling text about Dem's new tattoo quest, and Roxas was much more interested in focusing on that avenue of interest instead of dwelling on the Struggler still probably only blocks from here.

"Dem," Axel said grandly, correctly interpreting the stormy look still brewing in Roxas' eyes and choosing not to ask, "wants us to come hold his hand while he gets stabbed with a needle a few thousand times."

"You say that so damn judge-y like," Demyx sighed, "and yet how many thousands of times have needles been stabbed into your skin, ink-junky?"

"That," the redhead scoffed, "is completely beside the point. Whatdaya say, Rox, close up shop early and accompany babyface here to Ace of Spades?"

"Sure," the blond shrugged, "why the hell not. Never been to a tattoo parlor."

"So what's up, sunshine?" Axel asked fifteen minutes later, locking the front door behind them. "What brings you storming through like the harbinger of doom and gloom?"

"Nothing, did not," Roxas grumbled defensively.

"Kid," Demyx shook his head, "I was genuinely in fear of my life. Don't give us this _nothing _bullshit."

"I just had a weird run-in," the younger blond admitted reluctantly. He felt bad that they'd even noticed, to be honest; he didn't mean to bring their afternoon down with his adolescent whining.

"Oooh with an ex?" Demyx guessed, bouncing up next to the high school student shuffling his feet down the sidewalk.

"No," Axel guessed, "with a girl who used to have a crush on him."

"Used to?" Demyx echoed. "Look at him, she _still _has a crush on him."

"You guys suck," Roxas groaned, cracking a smile despite himself. "No, I ran into this guy I used to be friends with. Well, best friends, I guess."

"Was he a dick?" Demyx interrupted. "If he was a dick lets go find him and throw things at him."

"Hayner?" Axel guessed. Roxas nodded. He'd forgotten he'd told the redhead about him, back a few weeks ago after the time he and Naminé had ran into Hayner and Olette at the library. Axel had told him to be nice to the other senior, at least until Roxas was able to figure out what his ulterior motives were, but somehow that got lost in translation between Roxas' brain and Roxas' actions.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "He was nice, I guess. Stopped me from walking headfirst into a garbage can, so that was good of him. And he said we should 'hang out some time," he sneered, air-quoting around the words, "and 'catch up.'"

"What's so wrong with that?" Demyx frowned, glancing sideways at the smaller blond for a few seconds before gesturing down a back alley. "This way."

"Really nothing," Roxas admitted, more to himself than the older musician. "I just…why now? Why, after three years of us co-existing totally fine in the same school without bothering each other, is he all of a sudden all about being friends again?"

"Well obviously," Axel drawled, "you should find out. By playing along. Duh."

"Second," Demyx agreed. "Besides, is he hot?"

"No!" Roxas cried, torn between horror and laughter. "I mean, yeah, I guess he's not that bad looking, but he's like…I dunno, he's Hayner. Even if that wouldn't be weirdly incestuous, he's the captain of the Struggle team. The quintessential jock."

Axel mumbled something that sounded _most _suspiciously like 'just like Sora,' but Roxas was saved from trying to muster up a comeback by Demyx gesturing with a flourish at what looked like a total hole in the wall dive.

"So, what are we here for, exactly?" Roxas asked, wrinkling his nose and stepping through the door Axel graciously held open for him. The tattoo parlor, aside from being surprisingly clean, was almost as cool as Arpeggio's, but in the polar opposite way. Arpeggio's was flawless in its clutter and collectibles, but Ace of Spades was impressive in its compulsive neatness. The entire shop had the fresh, pristine look of a just cleaned parlor, straight, neat lines of whitest whites and crispest blacks, chrome gleaming with a polished shine under well-placed lights. Several framed paintings lined the walls, each boasting pretty much the only non-monochromatic color in the entire shop, and Roxas was so busy studying one of manic, drastic close-up of a twisted King of Hearts that he almost missed Demyx' response.

"Just getting a few rough spots touched up on this, being a perfectionist."

He turned around just in time to catch Demyx pulling his hoody over his head, revealing what looked like a fairly fresh line of script running straight down the left side of his torso. Roxas' fingers twitched with the urge to touch it, something about the still-slightly-raised texture of the imperfect handwriting, the way the words surfed the ridges Demyx' ribs like the very wave they described.

"Is it logical to be lost in a tidal sound wave?" he read, twisting his head to the side and squinting at the older blond's skin. "Dude, that rocks."

"Thanks," Demyx grinned. "Zex and I were at a Ludo concert last summer and the opening band had this song 'American Riviera' and this was the first line, and we just kind of stared at each other cause it was perfect."

"I mean it's great," Roxas agreed, crossing the room to drop down next to Axel on one of the black leather couches, "don't get me wrong. But perfect for what?"

"For…well, us," the musician shrugged. Axel, slumped against the back of the couch on Roxas' right, muttered something incoherent under his breath.

"Shut your trap, Red," Demyx warned, throwing his sweatshirt at the laughing redhead before turning back to Roxas. "We'd both been thinking about getting a tattoo, and we both latched onto this one extra hard. We almost fought about it, until we decided there was no reason we couldn't get the same one."

"And what made it so special?"

The taller blond smoothed his thumb down the long line of text, glancing down at it. "It's…well it's kind of the perfect blend of me and Zex, you know? Music and logic for him, music and waves for me. The surfer and the cynic."

"Write that down," Axel said quickly, pointing at his bandmate. "The surfer and the cynic, that's _good_. Sounds like a love song, if only you'd grow a pair."

"Don't talk to _me_about growing a pair," the shirtless teen protested, raising Significant Eyebrows at the other teen.

Roxas frowned at the pair of them, having only the vaguest idea of what was going on. He was saved, or interrupted, by the arrival of a fourth person from the backroom, bleached blond hair and metal-heavy ears glinting almost as bright as the polished silver display case.

"_You're _their tattoo artist?" Roxas blurted out, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Luxord strolling towards them.

"Except those stupid fucking emo tears," the older man defended. "I had nothing to do with that particular exercise in stupidity."

"These things are the _shit_," Axel protested, thumbing one of his tattooed cheeks defiantly.

"Yes, yes, they're precious, just like you," Roxas teased, leaning over and pinching the fleshy part of the redhead's skin. Axel swatted ineffectively at the blond's hand as Demyx and Luxord laughed.

"I'll be yours too, if you want," Luxord smirked, nodding at Roxas. "What about it, kid, itching for some ink?"

"But I'm n-gjgjkskg" Roxas trailed off, mumbling the remains of the last words against the hand Axel had sealed over his mouth. He frowned at the redhead sitting behind him, shooting him a warning look masked by an easy grin.

"Nineteen, right? That's what you were going to say?" the drummer prompted, watching Roxas' face with a raised eyebrow.

"Yup," Roxas nodded. "Nineteen. But still not ready for an impulse tattoo yet."

"Boo, lame," Axel hissed, ruffling Roxas' blond spikes in playful retaliation. "Come on Rox, you'd look hot with a tattoo."

"Yeah, two big fat tear drops right on his face," Demyx suggested. "Oh wait, no, only a total _jackass _would do something that dumb."

"You're just jealous cause you had to steal your shit from a ruddy pirate," Axel teased, nodding at the black outline on Demyx' forearm.

"You're just jealous cause I actually remember making the conscious decision to let someone tattoo me," the pianist said tauntingly.

"Jesus, are they always like this?" Roxas asked exasperatedly, turning to Luxord.

"Should see them at rehearsal, love," the artist said, nodding. "It's a wonder we get anything done. Especially with Riku being a total wanker. And _Demyx_has developed a new habit of dropping, breaking, or crashing into the nearest object every time Zexion walks into the room."

"I do not!" Demyx whined, shuffling over to the bench Luxord was gesturing him to.

"Dude…" Axel laughed.

"Am I missing something, or what?" Roxas finally asked, looking back and forth between the three band members. "Zexion's your best friend, right?"

"Oh they're best friends alright," Luxord muttered.

"_Best _friends," Axel repeated.

"You," Demyx warned, sitting up halfway and pointing threateningly at the redhead. "I know shit about you and Riku that would make Roxas run out of here screaming."

"Reaaally?" the younger blond drawled, raising an eyebrow and turning to find Axel's face almost as red as his hair. "No, no," he paused, shaking himself and switching back to Demyx. "You're trying to distract me, you manipulative bastard. What am I missing here?"

"You mean other than my massive, completely overwhelming, and so painfully obvious it hurts to even think about, enormous crush on Zexion?" Demyx said wryly, rolling his head to the side to look at Roxas.

What?

"Don't listen to him," Axel scoffed, leaning in to Roxas. "'Crush.' Please, try so truly, madly, deeply in love that Savage Garden got the inspiration for their song from Demyx and travelled back in time to write it."

_What? _(and really…what?)

"You and…" Roxas trailed off, gesturing randomly between Demyx and the empty air next to him even as the surprisingly loud buzz of Luxord's tattoo gun filled the shop. "You and Zexion?"

"Come on now, Rox," Demyx sighed.

"Move again, twat, and I'll give you facials to match the freak's," Luxord warned, glaring at the reproachful-looking blond stretched out in front of him.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "Anyway," he continued, carefully looking at Roxas without moving anything from the neck down. "You didn't _seriously _think you were the only gay boy in all of Twilight Town, did you? I mean, this is the _theater district_."

"Stereotypes…" Roxas trailed off lamely.

"Are, sometimes, actually based in reality," Axel reminded him. "Seriously, I don't understand your high school. It's statistically impossible you're the only gay kid in the whole school."

The blond ignored Axel in favor of the much more interesting subject of Demyx, grimacing at him from halfway across the room. "Does that mean you're…"

"Gay?" Demyx looked like he was forcibly restraining himself from shrugging. "I mean, I guess? I dunno, I was never really into dating in high school, I kind of just whored around a lot. I guess if I really sat down and thought about it my preference would probably be male."

"By male he means Zexion," Luxord clarified, glancing up from Demyx' ribcage. "Clearly."

Roxas glanced helplessly at Axel, who was watching him with thinly veiled interest. "Are _all _your friends gay?" he challenged.

The redhead laughed. "I mean, technically I think Riku kind of skews the standard a little bit," he joked. "And no one's really sure about Zexion, thus far the jackass has proved to be asexual."

"Tell me about it," Demyx grumbled, making a face at Luxord as the older blond shaded lightly over an area that was more bone than anything else.

"I'm not," the drummer called over the buzzing. "You gents are great and all, but I like my women soft and curvy."

"Which is clearly why you're dating a bitch with claws," Axel drawled. "See," he added, turning back to Roxas. "Lux isn't. Obviously Larxene isn't. Xiggy isn't, or at least wasn't last time anyone bothered to check. Plenty of the people in the outer circle, the ones you haven't really met yet, but totally will at the Thanksgiving party, aren't. We just happened to find all the good ones."

"Roxas," Luxord said loudly, switching off the gun and straightening up to look at the still-gob smacked blond. "Know what's an excellent way to get over a big shock like that? Adrenaline rush. Bet you the cost of the jewelry you don't have the balls to get a piercing done right now."

Roxas worked his mouth open and closed several times, glancing between the fond look on Axel's face, the discomfort-laced amusement on Demyx', and the challenge in Luxord's smirk, brain racing to catch up with the situation. He _really _ought to stop being surprised like this, especially after Sora, but the _processing_just wasn't really sinking in.

He thought about the promised adrenaline rush, the sharp spike piercing through the haze of half-formed thoughts, the tangible satisfaction of cool metal through his skin and dull, throbbing pain bringing him back down to the real world. It was maybe a little masochistic, and maybe a little out of character, but right now it might just be exactly what he needed.

"What are your thoughts on an eyebrow stud?" he responded slowly.

All three musicians grinned.

* * *

><p>At the end of Chapter 5 I mentioned that I quoted my favorite book. The quote was "the foolish refrain of the hopelessly devoted," from <em>The Realm of Possibility <em>by David Levithan. I spend a stupid amount of time trying to decide what said refrain is and often apply it to things. Like that.

**Sounds of a PunkPopEmoRock**is a killer playlist, and readily available if you want it. How many of the songs on it can you name, based on the conversation the boys had?

Also, because I'm dead curious, what did you guys write your college admissions essay on/what do you think you might write it about? Mine was about the inconsistency in the normal space-time continuum one experienced when entering my high school's yearbook editing room. Yeah, I know. I'm great.


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